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DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES, 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


By SOPHIE MAY, 

AUTHOE OF •* LITTLE PBUDY 8T0K1ES.” 


■>> 


lUusiraltb. 


BOSTON : 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
NEW YORK; 

LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 

1875 . 



Entered according to Act of Congresa, io the year 1870, 
Bt lee and SHEPARD, 

In the Offloe of the Librarian of Congresa, at Washington, 


TO THE 


LITTLE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN^'^ 

IN THE ASYLUM FOR THE BLIND 


AT INDIANAPOLIS. 


DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES. 

Complete in six volumes. Handsomely Illustrated. 
Each vol., 75 cts. 

1. DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER’S. 

2. DOTTY DIMPLE A T HOME. 

8. DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST. 

4. DOTTY DIMPLE A T PL A Y. 

5. DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL. 

DOTTY DIMPLE’S FLYAWAY. 


BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 

LITTLE PRUDY STORIES. 

Now complete. Six vols. 24mo. Handsomely Illustrated. 
In a neat box. Per vol., 75 cts. Comprising: 

1. LITTLE PRUDY. 

2. LITTLE PRUDY’ S SISTER SUSY. 

3. LITTLE PRUDY’ S CAPTAIN HORACE. 

4. LITTLE PRUDY’ S COUSIN GRACE. 

6. LITTLE PRUDY’ S STORY BOOK. 

6. LITTLE PRUDY’ S DOTTY DIMPLE, 


CONTEITTS 


CHAPTER 

I. “ The Blind-Eyed Children,” 

PA OR 

7 

11. Emily’s Trials, 

• • 

. 22 

III. Playing Ship, 


. 37 

rv. A Spoiled Dinner, 


. 60 

V. Playing Truant, . 


. 72 

VI. A Strange Visit, . 


. 89 

VII. Playing Prisoner,. 


. 103 

VIII. Playing Thief, 


. 116 

IX.’ Thanksgiving Day, 


. 134 

X. Grandma’s Old Times, 

. 

. 150 

XI. The Crystal Wedding, 

• • • 

. 166 


( 5 ) 



DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER I. 

“the blind-eyed childeen.” 

“You is goin’ off, Dotty Dimpwil.” 

“Yes, dear, and you must kiss me.” 

“ No, not now ; you isn’t gone yet. You’s 
goin’ nex’ day after this day.” 

Miss Dimple and, Horace exchanged glan- 
ces, for they had an important secret be- 
tween them. 

“Dotty, does you want to hear me crow 
like Bantie? ’Cause,” added Katie, with a 
pitying glance at her cousin, “’cause you 
can’t hear me bimeby, when you didn’t be 
to my house.” 


8 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“That will do, you blessed little Tojv 
knot,” cried Horace, as the shrill crowing 
died on the air, and the pink bud of a 
mouth took its own shape again. “ Now I 
just mean to tell you something nice, for 
you might as well know it and be happy 
a day longer : mother and you and I are 
going to Indianapolis to-morrow with Dotty 
— going in the cars.” 

“ O ! ” exclaimed the child, whirling about 
like a leaf in a breeze. “Going to ’Naplis, 
yidiii’ ill the cars! O my shole!” 

“Yes, and you’ll be good all da;^ — won’t 
you, darling, and not hide mamma’s spools?” 

“Yes, I won’t if I don’t ’member. "We 
for salt, salt, salt,” sang Flyaway (meaning 
mi, fa, sol). Then she ran to the bureau, 
perched herself before it on an ottoman, 
and talked to herself in the glass. 

“Now you be good gell all day, Katie 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


9 


Clifford — not dishbey your mamma, not 
hide her freds o’ spools, say fank you 
please. O my shole ! ” 

So Katie was made happy for twenty- 
four hours. 

“ After we sleep one more time,” said 
she, “then we shall go.” 

She wished to sleep .that “ one more time ” 
with Dotty; but her little head was so full 
of the journey that she aroused her bed- 
fellow in the middle of the night, calling 
out, — 

“"We’s goin’ to ’Naplis, — we for salt, salt, 
salt, — yidin’ in the cars. Dotty Dimpwil.” 

It was some time before Dotty could 
come out of dreamland, and understand 
what Katie said. 

“ Won’t you please to hush ? ” she whis- 
pered faintly, and turned away her face, for 
the new moon was shining into her eyes. 


10 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“Let’s we get up,” cried Katie, shaking 
her by the shoulders; “don’t you see the 
sun’s all corned up bwight?*” 

“O, that’s nothing but just the moon, 
Katie Clifford.” 

“ O ho ! is um ' the moon ? Who cutted 
um in two?” said Flyaway, and dropped 
to sleep again. 

Dotty was really sorry to leave aunt Ma- 
ria’s pleasant house, and the charming nov- 
elties of Out West. 

“Phebe,” said she, with a quiver in her 
voice, when she received the tomato pin- 
cushion, “ I like you just as well as if you 
wasn’t black. And, Katinka, I like you just 
as well as if you wasn’t Dutch. You can 
cook better things than Norah, if your hair 
isn’t so nice.” 

This speech pleased Katinka so much that 
she patted the letter O’s on each side of 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


11 


her head with great satisfaction, and was 
very sorry she had not made some choco- 
late cakes for Dotty to eat in the cars. 

Uncle Henry did not like to part with 
his bright little niece. She had been so 
docile and affectionate during her visit, that 
he began to think her very lovely, and to 
wonder he had ever supposed she had a 
wayward temper. 

The ride to Indianapolis was a very pleas- 
ant one. Katie thought she had the care 
of the whole party, and her little face was 
full of anxiety. 

“ Don’t you tubble yourself, mamma,” said 
she ; “ /’ll look out the winner, and tell you 
when we get there.” 

“ Don’t let her fall OTit, Horace,” said Mrs. 
Clifford ; “ I have a headache, and you must 
watch her.” 

“Has you got a headache, mamma? I’s 
velly solly. Lean ’gainst me, mamma.” 


12 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Horace wished the conductor had been 
in that car, so he could have seen Miss 
Flyaway trying to prop her mother’s head 
against her own morsel of a shoulder — 
about' as secure a resting-place as a piece 
of thistle-down. 

“ When was it be dinner-time ? ” said she 
at last, growing very tired of so much care, 
and beginning to think “ ’Naplis ” was a long 
way off. 

But they arrived there at last, and found 
Mr. Parlin waiting for them at' the depot. 
After they had all been refreshed by a nico 
dinner, and Flyaway had caught a nap, 
which took her about as long as it takes 
a fly to eat his breakfast, then Mr. Parlin 
suggested that they should visit the Blind 
Asylum. 

“ Is it where they make blinds ? ” asked 
Dotty. 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


13 


“O, no,” replied Mr. Parlin; “it is a 
school where blind children are taught.” 

“What is they when they is blind, uncle 
Eddard?” 

“They don’t see, my dear.” 

Flyaway shut her eyes, just to give her- 
self an idea of their condition, and ran 
against Horace, who saved her from falling. 

“ I was velly blind, then, Hollis,” said 
she, “and that’s what is it.” 

“ I don’t see,” queried Dotty, — “ I don’t 
see how people that can’t see can see to 
read ; so what’s the use to go to school ? ” 

“They read by the sense of feeling; the 
letters are raised,” said Mr. Parlin. “ But 
Jiere we are at the Institute.” 

They were in the pleasantest part of the 
city, standing before some beautiful grounds 
which occupied an entire square, and were 
enclosed by an iron fence. In front of the 


14 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


building grew trees and shrubs, and on 
each side was a play-ground for the children. 

“Why, that house has windows,” cried 
Dotty. “ I don’t see what people want of 
windows when they can’t see.” 

“ Nor me needer,” echoed Katie. “ AVhat 
um wants winners, can’t see out of?” 

They went up a flight of stone steps, and 
were met at the door by a blind waiting- 
girl, who ushered them into the visitors’ 
parlor. 

“Is she blind-eyed?” whispered Flyaway, 

gazing at her earnestly. “Her eyes isn’t 

shut up; where is the see gone to?” 

Mrs. CliflPord sent up her card, and the 

superintendent, who knew her well, came 

down to meet her. He was also “blind- 

< 

eyed,” but the children did not suspect it. 
Tliey were much interested in the speci- 
mens of bcad-work which were to be seen 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDRE.’. 


15 


in the show-cases. Mr. Parlin bought some 
flowers, , baskets, and other toys, to carry 
home to Susy and Prudy. Horace said, — 
These beads are strung on wires, and it 
would be easy enough to do that with one’s 
eyes shut; but it always did puzzle me to 
see how blind people can tell one color from 
another with the ends of their fingers.” 

The superintendent smiled. 

“That would be strange indeed if it were 
true,” said he; “but it is a mistake. The 
colors are put into separate boxes, and that 
is the way the children distinguish them.” 

“ I suppose they are much happier for 
being busy,” said Mr. Parlin. “ It is a 
beautiful thing that they can be made 
useful.” 

“ So it is,” said the superintendent. “ I 
am blind myself, and I know how necessary 
employment is to my happiness.” 


16 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


The children looked up at the noble face 
of the speaker with surprise. Was he blind ? 

“Why does he wear glasses, then?” whis- 
pered Dotty. “Grandma wears ’em because 
she can see a little, and wants to see more.” 

The superintendent was amused. As he 
could not see. Dotty had unconsciously sup- 
posed his hearing must be rather dull; but, 
on the contrary, it was very quick, and he 
had caught every word. 

“ I suppose, my child,” remarked he, play- 
fully, “ these spectacles of mine may be 
called the gravestones for my dead eyes.” 

Dotty did not understand this; but she 
was very sorry she had spoken so loud. 

After looking at the show-cases as long 
as they liked, the visitors went across the 
hall into the little ones’ school-room. This 
was a very pleasant place, furnished with 
nice desks; and at one end were book-cases 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


17 


containing blind books ” with raised letters. 
Horace soon discovered that the Old Testa- 
ment was in six volumes, each volume as 
large as a family Bible. 

In this cheerful room were twenty or 
thirty boys and girls. They looked very 
much like other children, only they did not 
appear to notice that any one was entering, 
and scarcely turned their heads as the door 
softly opened. 

Dotty had a great many new thoughts. 
These unfortunate little ones were very 
neatly dressed, yet they had never seen 
themselves in the glass ; and how did they 
know whether their hair was rough or 
smooth, or parted in the middle ? How 
could they tell when they dropped grease- 
spots on those nice clothes ? 

‘‘ I don’t see,” thought Dotty, “ how they 

know when to go to bed ! O, dear ! I should 
2 


18 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


get up i lit the night and think ’tivas morn- 
ing ; only 1 should s’pose ’twas night all the 
whole time, and not any stars either ! AVhen 
my father spoke to me, I should think it 
was my mother, and say, ^Yes’m.’ And 
p’rhaps I should think Prudy ivas a beggar- 
man with a wig on. And never saw a 
flower nor a tree ! O, dear ! ” 

AVhile she was musing in this way, and 
gazing about her with eager eyes which saw 
everything, the children were reading aloud 
from their odd-lookiiig books. It was strange 
to see their small fingers fly so rapidly over 
the pages. Horace said it was “ a touching 
sight.” 

I wonder,” went on Dotty to herself, 
“ if they should tease God very hard, would 
he let their eyes come again? No, I s’pose 
not.” 

Then she reflected further that perhaps 
they were glad to be blind ; she hoped so. 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


19 


The teacher now called out a« class in 
geography, and began to ask questions. 

“ What can you tell me about the inhabit- 
ants of Utah ? ” said she. 

“ I know,” spoke up • a little boy with 
black hair, and eyes which would have 
been bright if the lids had not shut them 
out of sight, — “ I know ; Utah is inhabited 
by a religious insect called Mormons.” 

The superintendent and visitors knew that 
he meant sect, and they laughed at the mis- 
take; all but Dotty and Flyaway, who did 
not consider it funny at all. Flyaway was 
seated in a chair, busily engaged in picking 
dirt out of the heels of her boots with a pin. 

Horace was much interested in the atlases 
and globes, upon the surface of which the 
land rose up higher than the water, and the 
deserts were powdered with sand. These 
blind children could travel all about the 


20 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


M^orld with their fingers as w^ell as he could 
with eyes and a pointer. 

The teacher — a kind-looking young lady 
— was quite pleased when Mr. Parlin said 
to her, — 

I see very little difference between this 
and the Portland schools for small children.” 

She wished, and so did the teachers in 
the other three- divisions, to have the pupils 
almost forget they were blind. 

She allowed them to sing and recite 
poetry for the entertainment of their vis- 
itors. Some of them had very sweet voices, 
and Mrs. Clifford listened with tears. Their 
singing recalled to her mind the memory of 
beautiful things, as music always does; and 
then she remembered that through their 
whole lives these children must grope in 
darkness. She felt more sorrowful for 
them than they felt for themselves. These 


THE BLIND-EYED CHILDREN. 


21 


clear little souls, who would never see the 
sun, were very happy, and some of them 
really supposed it was delightful to be 
blind. 

Their teacher desired them to come for- 
ward, if they chose, and repeat sentences 
of their own composing. Some things they 
said were very odd. One bright little girl 
remarked very gravely, — 

“Happy are the blind, for they see no 
ghosts.” 

This made her companions all laugh. 
“Yes, that’s true,” thought Dotty. “If 
people should come in here with ever so 
many pumpkins and candles inside, these 
blind children wouldn’t know it; they 
couldn’t be frightened. I wonder where 
they ever heard of ghosts. There must 
have been some naughty girl here, like 
Angeline.” 


22 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY, 


CHAPTER II. 

Emily’s trials. 

At three o’clock the little blind girls all 
went out to play in one yard, and the little 
blind boys in the other. 

“Coin’ out to take their air,” said Katie. 
Then she and Dotty followed the girls in 
respectful silence. 

Almost every one had a particular friend; 
and it was wonderful to see how certain any , 
two friends were to find one another by the 
sense of feeling, and walk off together, arm 
in arm. It was strange, too, that they could 
move so fast without hitting things and fall- 
ing down. 


EillLY’s TRIALS. 


23 


“ When I am blindfolded,” thought Dotty, 
“it makes me dizzy, and I don’t know where 
I am. When I think anything isn’t there, 
the next I know I come against it, and make 
my nose bleed.” 

She was not aware that while the most 
of these children were blind, there were 
others who had a little glimmering of eye- 
sight. The world was night to some of 
them ; to others, twilight. 

They did not know Dotty and Katie were 
following them, and they chatted away as 
if they were quite by themselves. 

“Emily, have you seen my Lilly Viola?” 
said one little girl to another. “Miss Per- 
cival has dressed her all over new with a 
red dressing-gown and a black hat.” 

The speaker was a lovely little girl with 
curly hair; but her eyes were closed, and 
Dotty wondered what made her talk of 
“ seeing ” a doll. 


24 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Emily took “Lilly Viola,” and travelled 
all over her hat and dress and kid boots 
with her fingers. 

“Yes, Octavia,” said she, “she is very 
pretty — ever so much prettier than my 
Victoria Josephine.” 

Then both the little girls talked sweet 
nothings to their rag babies, just like any 
other little girls. 

“Is the dollies blind-eyed, too?” asked 
Katie, making a dash forward, and peeping 
into the cloth face of a baby. 

> The little mamma, whose name was Octa- 
via, smiled, and taking Katie by the shoul- 
ders, began to touch -her all over with her 
fingers. 

“ Dear little thing ! ” said she ; “ what soft 
hair!” 

“ Yes,” replied Katie ; “ velly soft. Don’t 
you wish, though, you could see my new 
dress ? It’s got little blue yoses all over it.” 


Emily’s trials. 


25 


“ I know your dress is pretty/’ said Octa- 
via, gently, “and I know you are pretty, 
too, your voice is so sweet.” 

“Well, I eat canny,” said Katie, “and 
that makes my voice sweet. I’se got ’most 
a hunnerd bushels o’ canny to my house.” 

“Have you truly?” asked the children, 
gathering about Flyaway, and kissing her. 

“Yes, and I’se got a sweet place in my 
neck, too; but my papa’s kissed it all out 
o’ me.” 

“Isn’t she a darling?” said Octavia, with 
delight. 

“Yes,” answered Dotty, very glad to say 
a word to such remarkable children as 

I 

these; “yes, she is a darling; and she has 
on a white dress with blue spots, and a hat 
trimmed with blue; and her hair is straw 
color. They call her Flyaway, because she 
can’t keep still a minute.” 


26 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“Yes, I does; I keeps still two, free, 
five, all the minutes,” cried Katie; and to 
prove it, she flew across the yard, and be- 
gan to pry into one of the play-houses. 

“She doesn’t mean to be naughty; you 
must scuse her,” spoke up Dotty, very loud ; 
for she still held unconsciously to the idea 
that blind people must have dull ears, “ She 
is a,nice baby ; but I s’pose you don’t know 
there are some play-houses in this yard, and 
she’ll get into mischief if I don’t watch her.” 

“ Why, all these play-houses are ours,” 
said little curly-haired Emily; “whose did 
you think they were?” 

“ Yours?” asked Dotty, in surprise; “can 
you play ? ” 

Emily laughed merrily. 

“Why not? Did you ■ think we were 
sick ? ” 

Dotty did not answer. 


Emily’s trials. 


27 


“I ara Mrs. Holiday,” added Emily; 
“ that is, I generally am ; but sometimes 
I’m Jane. Didn’t you ever read^ Rollo on 
the Atlantic ? ” 

Dotty, who could only stammer over the 
First Keader at her mother’s knee, was 
obliged to confess that she had never made 
Rollo’s acquaintance. 

“ We have books read to us,” said Emily. 
^‘In the work-hour we go into the sitting- 
room, and there we sit with the bead-boxes 
in our laps, making baskets, and then our 
teacher reads to us out of a book, or tells 
us a story.” 

“ That is very nice,” said . Dotty ; “ people 
don’t read to me much.” 

“No, of course not, because you can see. 
People are kinder to blind children — didn’t 
you know it? I’m glad I had my eyes 
put out, for if they hadn’t been put out I 
shouldn’t have come here.” 


28 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ Where should you have gone, then ? ” 

“I shouldn’t have gone anywhere; I 
should just have staid at home.” 

Don’t you like to stay at home?” 

Emily shrugged her shoulders. 

“My paw killed a man.” 

“ I don’t know what a paw is,” said Dotty. 

“ O, Flyaway Clifford, you’ve broken a tea- 
pot ! ” 

“ No matter,” said Emily, kindly ; “ ’twas 
made out of a gone-to seed poppy. Don’t 
you know what a paw is ? Why, it’s a 
paw.” 

In spite of this clear explanation. Dotty 
did not understand any better than before. 

“ It was the man that married my maw, 
only maw died, and then there was another 
one, and she scolded and shook me.” 

“ O, I s’pose you mean a father ’n mother ; 
now I know.” 


Emily’s trials. 29 

“ I want to tell you,” pursued Emily, who 
loved to talk to strangers. “ She didn’t care 
if I was blind ; she used to shake me just 
the same. And my paw had fits.” 

The other children, who had often heard 
this story, did not listen to it with great 
interest, but went on with their various 
plays, leaving Emily and Dotty standing 
together before Emily’s baby-house. 

“Yes, my paw had fits. I knew when 
they were coming, for I could smell them 
in the bottle.” 

“ Fits in a bottle ! ” 

“ It was something he drank out of a bot- 
tle that made him 'have the fits. You are 
so little that you couldn’t understand. And 
then he was cross. And once he killed a 
man; but he didn’t go to.” 

“Then he was guilty,” said Dotty, in a 
solemn tone. “Did they take him to the 
court-house and hang him?” 


30 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ No, of course they wouldn’t hang him. 
They said it was the third degree, aud they 
sent him to the State’s Prison.” 

O, is your father in the State’s Prison ? ” 
Dotty thought if her father were in such 
a dreadful place, and she herself were blind, 
she should not wish to live; but here was 
Emily looking just as happy as anybody 
else. Indeed, the little girl was rather 
proud of being the daughter of such a wick- 
ed man. She had been pitied so much for 
her misfortunes that she had come to regard 
herself as quite a remarkable person. She 
could not see the horror in Dotty’s face, but 
she could detect it in her voice ; so she 
went on, well satisfied. 

“There isn’t any other little girl in this 
school that has had so much trouble as I 
have. A lady told me it was because God 
wanted to make a good woman of me, and 
that was why it was.” 


Emily’s trials. 


31 


“Does it make people good to have 
trouble?” asked Dotty, trying to remember 
what dreadful trials had happened to her- 
self. “ Our house was burnt all up, and I 
felt dreadfully. I lost a tea-set, too, with 
gold rims. I didn’t know I was any better 
for that.” 

“ O, you see, it isn’t very awful to have 
a house burnt up,” said Emily; '“not half 
so awful ds it is to have your eyes put 
out.” 

“ But then, Emily, I’ve been sick, and had 
the sore throat, and almost drowned — and 
— and — the whooping-cough when I was a 
baby.” 

“ What is your name ? ” asked Emily ; 
“ and how old are you ? ” 

“ ]\Iy name is Alice Parlin, and I am six 
years old.” 

'“Why, I am nine; and see — your head 
only comes under my chin.” 


32 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ Of course it doesn’t,” replied Dotty, 
with some spirit. “ I wouldn’t be as tall as 
you are for anything, and me only six — 
going on seven.” 

“ I suppose your paw is rich, and good to 
you, and you have everything you want — 
don’t you, Alice?” 

“ No, ray father isn’t rich at all, Emily, 
and I don’t have many things — no, in- 
deed,” replied Miss Dimple, with a desire 
to plume herself on her poverty and priva 
tions. “ My aunt ’Ria has two girls, but" '*^ 
don’t, only our Norah ; and mother never 
lets me put any nightly-blue sirreup on ray 
hangeijif ’cept Sundays. I tliink we’re 
pretty poor.” 

Dotty meant all she said. She had now 
become a traveller ; had seen a great many 
elegant things; and when she thought of 
her home in Portland, it seemed to her 


Emily’s trials. 


33 


plainer and less attractive than it had ever 
seemed before. 

“I don’t know what you would think,” 
said Emily, counting over her trials on her 
fingers as if they had been so many dia- 
mond rings, “ if you didn’t have anything 
to eat but brown bread and molasses. I 
guess you’d think that was pretty poor ! 
And got the molasses all over your faee, 
because you couldn’t see to put it in your 
mouth. And had that woman shake you 
very time you spoke. And your paw in 
State’s Prison because he killed a man. O, 
no,” repeated she, with triumph, there 
isn’t any other little girl in this school that’s 
had so much trouble as I have.” 

“ No, I s’pose not,” responded Dotty, giv- 
ing up the attempt to compare trials with 
such a wretched being ; “ but then I may be 

blind, some time, too./ P’rhaps a chicken 
3 


34 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


will pick my eyes out. A cross hea flew 
riglit up and (Jid so to a boy.” 

Emily paid no attention to this foolish 
remark. 

“ My paw writes me letters,” said she. 
“ Here is one in my pocket ; would you 
like to read it?” 

Dotty took tlie letter, which was badly 
written and worse spelled. 

“ Can you read it ? ” asked Emily, after 
Dotty had turned it over for some moments 
in silence. 

“No, I cannot,” replied Dotty, very much 
ashamed; “but I’m going to school by and 
by, and then I shall learn everything.” 

“ O, no matter if you can’t read it to me ; 
my teacher has read it ever so many times. 
At the end of it, it says, ‘Your unhappy 
and unfortunate paw.’ That is what he 
always says at the end of all his letters; 


Emily’s trials. 


35 


and he wants me to go to the prison to see 
him.” 

“Why, you couldn’t see him.” 

“No,” replied Emily, not understandings 
that Dotty referred to her blindness; “no, 

I couldn’t see him. The superintendent 
wouldn’t let me go; he says it’s no place 
for little girls.” 

“I shouldn’t think it was,” said Dotty, 
looking around for Flyaway, who was riding 
in a lady’s chair made by two admiring little 
girls. ^ 

“There was one thing I didn’t tell,” said 
Emily, who felt obliged to pour her whole 
history into her new friend’s ears; “I was 
sick last spring, and had a fever. If it had 
been scarlet fever I should have died ; but 
it was imitation of scarlet fever, and I got 
well.” 

“I’m glad you got well,” said Dotty, 


36 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


rather tired of Emily’s troubles ; “ but don’t 
you want to play with the other girls ? 
I do.” 

^^Yes; let us play Hollo on the Ocean/’ 
cried Octavia, who was Emily’s bosom 
friend, and was seldom away from her long 
at a time, but had just now been devoting 
herself to Katie. “ Here is the ship. All 
aboard ! ” 


PLAYING SHIP. 


37 


CHAPTER III. 

PLAYING SHIP. 

Now this ship was an old wagon-body, 
and had never been in water deeper than 
a mud puddle. A dozen little girls climbed 
in with great bustle and confusion, pretend- 
ing they were walking a plank and climbing 
up some steps. After they were fairly on 
board they waved their handkerchiefs for a 
good by to their friends on shore. Then 
Octavia fired peas out of a little popgun 
twice, and this was meant as a long farewell 
to the land. Now they were fairly out on 
the ocean, and began to rock back and forth, 
as if tossed by a heavy sea. 


38 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


See how the waves rise ! ” said Emily, 
and threw up her hands with an undulating 
motion. “I can see them,” she cried, an 
intent look coming into her closed eyes ; 
“ they are green, with white bubbles like 
soap suds. Aud the sun shines on them so! 
O, ’tis as beautiful as flowers I ” 

“ Booful as f ’owers ! ” echoed Flyaway, 
who was one of the passengers ; while Dotty 
wondered how Octavia knew the difference 
between green and white. She did not 
know; and wdiat sort of a picture she paint- 
ed in her mind of the mysterious sea I am 
sure I cannot tell. 

“Now,” said Miriam Lake, the prettiest 
of the children, “ it is time to strike the 
bells.” 

So she struck a tea-bell with a stick eight 
times. 

“That is eight bells,” explained she to 


PLAYING SHIP. 


39 


Dotty, '^and it means four o’clock. But, 
Jennie Holiday, where is the kitten? Why, 
we are not half ready.” 

The children never thought they could 
play “ship” without a kitten, a gray and 
white one which they put into a cage just 
as Jennie Holiday did, when she and Hollo 
travelled by themselves from New York 
to Liverpool. When the kitten had been 
brought, they had got as far as Long Island 
Sound, and they said the kitten was sent by 
a ship of war which had to be “ spoken.” 

“ This is a funny way to play,” said Mir- 
iam. “ Here we are at Halifax, and nobody 
has heaved the log yet.” 

“ No,” said Octavia ; “ so we can’t tell 
how many knots an hour we are going.” 

“i’m going a great many knocks,” cried 
Katie, whose exertions in rocking from side 
to side had thrown her overboard once. 


40 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“We never’ll get to Liverpool in this 
world,” said Emily, “unless Miss Percival 
comes and steers the ship.” 

It happened at that very moment that 
Miss Percival came into the yard with aunt 
Maria. 

“ If you will excuse me, Mrs. Clifford,” 
said she, laughing, “ I will take command 
of this ship.” 

“JSTo apologies are necessary,” replied 
Mrs. Clifford. “I should be very glad to 
watch your proceeding^ Is it possible. 
Miss Percival, that you arX capable of guid- 
ing a vessel across the Atlantic?” 

“ I have often tried it,” said Miss Percival, 
going on board; “but we sometimes have a 
shipwreck.” 

“Emily,” said she, “you may heave the 
log.” So Emily rose, and taking a large 
spool of crochet-cotton which Miss Percival 


Playing Ship. — Page 40 



I 



PLAYING SHIP. 


41 


gave her, held it above her head, turning it 
slowly, till a tatting shuttle, which was fas- 
tened at the end of the thread, fell to the 
ground. This was supposed to be the 
“ log ; ” and Octavia, with one or two other 
girls, pretended to tug with much force in 
order to draw it in, for the ship was going 
so fast that the friction against the cord was 
very great. Knots had been made in the 
cotton, over which Emily ran her quick fin- 
gers. 

“Ten knots an hour,” said she. 

“Very good speed,” returned the captain. 
“ I do not think we shall be able to take an 
observation to-day, as it is rather cloudy.” | 

Sailors “ take observations ” at noon, if 
the sun is out, by means of a sextant, with 
which they measure the distance from the 
sun to the southern horizon. In this way 
the captain can tell the exact latitude of the 


42 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


ship; but Miss Percival made believe there 
was a storm coming up ; so it was not pos- 
sible to take an observation. 

“It is two bells,” said she: “the wind is 
out; there will be a fearful storm. I would 
advise the passengers to turn into their 
berths.” 

The children lay down upon the floor. 
“ There, there,” said Miriam Lake, who was 
playing Jennie Holiday ; “ my poor little kit- 
ty is just as seasick! Her head keeps going 
round and round.” 

“ My head has did it too,” chimed in Ka- 
tie, rolling herself into a ball ; “ it keeps 
yocking yound and yound.” 

“I pitch about so in my berth,” said Octa- 
via, who was Rollo, “ that next thing I shall 
be out on the floor. Hark ! How the water 
is pouring in I I’m afraid the ship has sprung 
a leak ; and if it has I must call the cham- 
bermaid.” 


PLAYING SHIP. 


43 


Mrs. Clifford, who stood looking on, was 
quite amused at the idea of calling the cham- 
bermaid to stop a leak in the ship. 

“Man the pumps!” said the captain. The 
girls tugged away at a pole in one end of 
the wagon, moving it up and down like a 
churn-dash. 

“ I do hope this wind will go down,” 
sighed Emily. 

“Well, it will,” said simple Flyaway; “I 
hear it going.” 

“ It is head wind and a heavy sea,” re- 
marked the captain ; “ but never fear ; we 
shall weather the storm. We are now on the 
southern coast of Ireland. I don^t think,” 
added she, in a different tone, “it is best to 
be shipwrecked, children — do you? We will 
hurry into Liverpool, and then I think it 
likely your little visitors may enjoy keeping 
house with your dolls, or having a nice 
swing.” 


44 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ I wish I could eat something,” said Dot- 
ty, with a solemn face; “ but I’m too sick.” 

“ So’m I,” groaned Flyaway. “ I couldn’t 
eat noffin’ — ’cept cake.” 

“ If you are in such a condition as that,” 
said the captain, “ it is certainly high time 
we landed. And here comes a pilot boat 
with a signal flying. We will take the pilot 
on board,” added she; drawing in another 
little girl. “ And look ! here we are now in 
Liverpool.” 

“ We must go to the Adelphi,” said Octa- 
via; “that is where Hollo went, and found 
his father, and mother, and Thannie. But the 
kitten didn’t ever get there — did it. Miss 
Percival ? ” 

The voyage being ended, and with it the 
fearful seasickness, the children went to 
swinging, with their teacher to push them. 

“ Miss Percival,” said aunt Maria, shaking 


PLAYING SHIP. 


45 


hands with that excellent young lady, “I 
wish you joy of your noble employment. It 
is a blessed thing to be able to give so much 
pleasure to these dear little children.” 

“So it seems to me,” replied Miss Perci- 
val. “They are always grateful, too, for 
every little kindness.” 

“ They look very good and obedient,” said 
Mrs. Clifford, in a low voice. 

“So they are. Sometimes I think they 
are better than children who have eyes ; per- 
-haps because they cannot see to get into so 
much mischief,” added Miss Percival, pinch- 
ing Emily’s cheek. 

“ Aunt ’Ria,” said Dotty, in raptures, 

don’t they have good times here?” 

“Velly good times,” said little Flyaway, 
clutching at her mother’s dress. “ Mamma, 
I wish I was blind-eyed, too.” 

“You, my darling baby! Mother hopes 


46 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


that will never be. But if you cannot 
be blind-eyed yourself, perhaps you may 
make some of these little ones happy. Is 
there anything you would like to give 
away?” 

Flyaway winked slowly, trying to think 
what she had at home that she no longer 
wished to keep. 

^‘Yes, mamma,” said she at last, with a 
smile of satisfaction, “I’ve got a old hat.” 

“ O, fie, Katie ! I dare say you would be 
very glad to part with that, for I remember 
you cried the other day when I asked you to 
wear it. Your old hat would not be a pretty 
present.” 

“Then I can’t fink of noffin’ else,” said 
Katie, shaking her head ; at the same time 
having a guilty recollection of several beau- 
tiful toys, and “ ’most a hunnerd bushels of 
canny;” that is to say, a small box of con- 


PLAYING SHIP. 


47 


fectlonery her uncle Edward had given 
her. 

]\Irs. Clifford had observed of late that her 
little daughter was not as generous as she 
could wish. Both Katie and Dotty were 
peculiarly liable to become selfish, as they 
were much petted at home, and had no 
younger brothers or sisters with whom to 
share their treasures. Mrs. Clifford did not 
insist upon Katie’s making any sacrifice. 
The little one did not pity the blind children 
at all. They seemed so happy that she al- 
most envied them. So did Miss Dimple. It 
was not, after all, very grievous to be blind, 
she thought, if one could live at this Insti- 
tute and have such nice plays. 

“ Aunt ’Kia thinks I ought to give them 
something, I s’pose. When I get home I 
meafi to ask mamma and grandma to dress 
a beautiful doll, and I’ll send it to Emily. 


48 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


She’ll keep it to remember me by; and it 
won’t cost any of my money if papa buys the 
head.” 

“ Good by, Emily,” said she, as she parted 
from her. “I hope there won’t any more 
bad things happen to you.” 

“ But I s’pose there will,” replied Emily, 
cheerfully. 

Mr. Parlin and Horace were waiting in 
the hall, and the latter was impatiently 
watching the tall clock. They had been in 
the greenhouse, looking at the flowers, and 
in the shop, where the blind boys learn to 
make brooms and brushes. 

“Well, ladies, are you ready to go?” asked 
hir. Parlin, taking Flyaway by the hand. 

“Yes, we ladies is ready,” replied she. 
So this was the end of their visit at the In- 
stitute. 

After they had gone away, the little blind 
girls said to one another, — 


PLAYING SHIP. 


49 


“ What nice children those are ! Which 
is the prettiest, Alice or Katie ? ” 

For they always spoke of people and 
things exactly as if they could see them. 

4 


60 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER lY. 

A SPOILED DINNER. 

Next inorning, Dotty Dimple and her 
father started for Maine. Flyaway did not 
like this at all. Her cousin had been so 
pleasant and so entertaining that she wished 
to keep her always. 

, “What for you can’t stay, Dotty Dimp- 
wil?” 

“ O,” said Dotty, tearing herself away 
from the little clinging arms, “ I must go 
home and get ready for Christmas.” 

“ No, you musser,” persisted Katie; “we’ve 
got a Santa Claw in our chimley ; you mus- 
ser go home.” 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


51 


isn’t for Santa Claus at all, darling; 
it is for my papa and mamma’s wedding. 
To stand up, so they can be married over 
again. Now kiss me, and let me go.” 

“Her’s goin’ home to Kismus pie,” re- 
marked Katie, as she took her mournful 
way with her mamma to the house where 
they were visiting. She did not know what 
^ a wedding might be, but was sure it had 
pies in it. 

“There goes a right smart little girl,” 
said Horace, with a sweep of his thumb 
towards the Cleveland cars. “ If it wasn’t 
for Prudy, I should like her better than 
any other cousin I have in the world.” 

“She is an engaging child,” replied his 
mother, “and really seems to be outgrow- 
ing her naughty ways.” 

Thus, you see. Dotty Dimple, in coming 
away from Indiana, had left in the minds 


52 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


of her friends only golden opinions.” 
Perhaps she was rather overrated. Every- 
thing had gone well with her during her 
visit; why should she not be pleasant and 
happy? I am inclined to think there was 
the same old naughtiness in her heart, only 
just now it was asleep. We shall see. 

Nothing remarkable occurred on the home- 
ward journey, except that Mr. Parlin bought 
some gold-fishes in Boston, and carried them 
home as a present to Mrs. Read. They 
travelled one night in a sleeping-car, and 
by that means reached Portland a day 
earlier than they were expected. 

Dotty hardly knew whether to be glad or 
sorry for this. There was a great deal to 
be said on both sides of the question. She 
had anticipated the pleasure of being met 
at the depot by Susy and Prudy, and now 
that was not to be thought of ; but it would 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


53 


be deliglitful to give the family a suprise. 
On the whole, she was very well satisfied. 

As they drove up to the new home, how- 
ever, what was their astonishment to find 
it closed ! There was not even a window 
open, or any other sign that the house was 
inhabited. Dotty ran to every door, and 
shook it. 

“ Why, papa, papa, do you s’pose there’s 
anybody dead ? ” 

“ The probability is, Alice, that they have 
gone away. I will run over to Mrs. Pros- 
ser’s, and see if she knows anything about 
it.” 

Mrs. Prosser was the nearest neighbor on 
the left. Her little daughter came to the 
door in tears, having hurt herself against a 
trunk in the hall. 

“Miss Carrie,” said Mr. Pari in, “can you 
tell me where Mrs. Parlin and the rest of 
the family are gone ? ” 


64 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ Yes, Caddy Prosser, the house is shut 
up,” added Dotty, “and I’m afraid they’re 
dead.” 

“I don’t know where they’re gone, nor 
anything,” sobbed Carrie. “I didn’t know 
the trunk was in the entry, and I came so 
fast I fell right over it.” 

“ I am very sorry you are hurt,” said Mr. 
Parlin. “Is your mother at home?” 

“ No, sir, she isn’t ; her trunk came, but 
she didn’t.” 

There was no information to be obtained 
at the Prossers’ ; so Mr. Parlin went to Mr. 
Lawrence’s, the nearest neighbor on the 
right, making the same inquiries ; but all 
he learned was, that a carriage had been 
seen standing at Mr. Parlin’s door ; who 
had gone away in it nobody could tell. 

Dotty paced the pavement with restless 
steps, her miud agitated by a thousand wild 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


55 


fancies : Grandma Kead never went any- 
where ; perhaps she was locked up in the 
house, and Zip too. Norah was at Cape 
Elizabeth ; she had walked out to see her 
friend Bridget, the girl with red hair; and, 
just as likely as not, she didn’t ever mean 
to come back again. Mother, and Susy, and 
Prudy had gone to Willowbrook, to grand- 
pa Parlin’s — of course they had, — and left 
grandma Read all alone in the house, with 
nothing to eat. How strange! How un- 
kind 1 

“ Grandma ! ” she called out under Mrs. 
Read’s window. 

There was no answer. Dotty fancied the 
white curtain moved just a little; but that 
was because a fly was balancing himself on 
its folds. Grandma was not there, or, if she 
was, she must be very sound asleep. O, 
dear, dear ! And here were Dotty and her 


56 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


father come home a day earlier than they 
were expected ; and instead of giving the 
family a joyful surprise, they had a surprise 
themselves, only not a joyful one, by any 
means. How impolite it was in everybody, 
how unkind, to go away ! At first. Dotty 
had been alarmed; but now her indignation 
got the better of her fears. When she did 
see Prudy again, — the sister who pretended 
to love her so much, — she wouldn’t take 
the presents out of her trunk for ever so 
long, just to tease the naughty girl ! 

Meanwhile her father did . not appear to 
be at all disturbed. 

^‘Perhaps they have gone to the Islands, 
or somewhere else not far away, to spend 
the day. It is now nearly two o’clock. You 
may go to the Preble House with me, and 
take your dinner, and then I will unlock 
the house, and find some one to stay with 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


57 


you till night. Would you like that? Or 
would you prefer to go at once to your 
aunt Eastman’s? You may have your 
choice.” 

Dotty reflected about half a minute. I 
will go to aunt Eastman’s, if you please, 
papa.” 

This appeared to her decidedly the most 
dignified course. She would go to aunt 
Eastman’s, and she would not be in the 
least haste about coming back again. She 
would teach her sisters, especially Prudy, 
that it is best to be hospitable towards 
one’s friends when they have been away 
on a long journey. Her anger may seem 
very ’ absurd ; but you must remember, lit- 
tle friends, that Dotty Dimple had now be- 
come a travelled young lady; she had seen 
the world, and her self-esteem had grown 
every day she had been away. Her heart 


58 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


was all aglow with love towards the dear 
ones- at home, and it was very chilling to 
find the door locked in her face. She did 
not stop to reflect that no unkindness had 
been intended. 

As they drove to aunt Eastman’s, her 
father observed that her bright little face 
was very downcast, but supposed her sad- 
ness arose from the disappointment. There 
are depths of foolishness in children’s hearts 
which even their parents cannot fathom. 

Strange to' say, neither Mr. Parlin nor 
Dotty had thought that the family might 
be visiting at Mr. Eastman’s; but such was 
the case. It was Johnny’s birthday, and 
his father had sent the carriage into the 
city that morning for Mrs. Parlin, grandma 
Read, and the children. As for Norah, 
Dotty was right with regard to her; she 
had walked out to the Cape to see the 
auburn-haired Bridget. 


A SPOILED DINNEE. 


59 


“ I’m glad Johnny was born to-day instead 
of to-morrow,” said Prudy, “for to-morrOw 
we wouldn’t go out of the house for any- 
thing, auntie.” 

“ I can seem to see cousin Dimple,” said 
Percy ; “ she’ll carry her head higher than 
ever.” 

Prudy cast upon the youth as strong a 
look of disapproval as her gentle face could 
express. 

“Percy, you mustn’t talk so about Dotty. 
She is my sister. She isn’t so very proud; 
but if I was as handsome as she is, I should 
be proud too.” 

“O, no; she is very meek — Dimple is; 
just Ijke a little lamb. Don’t you remem- 
ber that verse she used to repeat? — 

‘ But, chlllens, you should never let 
Your naughty ankles rise ; 

Your little hands were never made 
To tear each uzzer’s eyes — out.’ ” 


60 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


she’s cross, it’s because you and 
Johuny tease her so,” said Prudy. “ I 
think it’s a shame.” 

Percy only laughed. He and Prudy 
were sitting in the doorway, arranging bou- 
quets for the dinner-table. Susy joined 
them, bearing in her hands some dahlias 
and tuberoses. 

“Why, Prudy,” said she, “what makes 
your face all aflame?” 

“She has been fighting for your little 
dove of a sister,” replied Percy; “the one 
that went West to finish her education.” 

This speech only deepened the color in 
Prudy’s face, though she tried hard to sub- 
due her anger, and closed her lips with the 
firm resolve not to open them again till she 
could speak pleasantly. 

“ Look ! ” exclaimed Percy ; “ there’s a 

carriage turning the corner. Why, it’s 
Dimple herself and uncle Edward ! ” 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


61 


It can’t be ! ” 

“ It is ! ” 

Both little girls ran to the gate. 

O, father ! O, Dotty ! Why, when 
did you get home ? ” 

By this time Mrs. Parlin had come out: 
also Mrs. Eastman and Johnny. Every- 
body was as surprised and delighted as 
possible ; and even Miss Dimple, sitting 
in state in the coach, was perfecftly satis- 
fied, and condescended to alight, instead 
of riding through the carriage gateway. 

“ O, Dotty Dimple, I’m so glad to see 
you ! ” cried Prudy. , 

“ It is my sister Alice, 

And she is grown so dear, so dear. 

That I would be the jewel 
That trembles at her ear, — 

only you don’t wear ear-rings, you know.” 

“ Are you glad to see me, though, Prudy ? 


62 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Then what made you go off and shut the 
house up?” 

“ O, we didn’t expect you till to-morrow ; 
and it’s Johnny’s birthday. Dinner is almost 
ready ; aren’t you glad ? Such a dinner, 
too ! ” 

“ Any bill of fare ? ” asked Dotty, with 
a sudden recollection of past grandeur. 

“ A bill of fare ? O, no ; those are for 
hotels. But there’s almost everything else. 
Now you can go up stairs with me, and 
wash your face.” 

Dotty appeared at table with smooth hair 
and a fresh ruffle which Prudy had basted 
in the neck of her dress. She looked very 
neat and prim, and, as Percy had predicted, 
carried her head higher than ever. 

“ I suppose,” said aunt Eastman, “ you 
will have a great many wonderful things 
to tell us. Dotty, for I am sure you trav- 
elled with your eyes open.” 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


63 


Yes’m ; I hardly ever went to sleep in 
the cars. But when you said ‘ eyes/ auntie, 
it made me think of the blind children. We 
went to the ’Sylum to see them.” 

“ How do they look ? ” asked Johnny. 

“ They don’t look at all ; they are blind.” 

“ Astonishing ! I’d open my eyes if I 
were they.” 

“ Why, Percy, they are blind — stone- 
blind ! ” 

“How is that? How blind is a stone?” 

Dotty busied herself with her turkey. 
Her Eastman cousins all had a way of ren- 
dering her 'Very uncomfortable. They made 
remarks which were intended to be witty, 
but were only pert. They were not really 
kind-hearted, or they would have been more 
thoughtful of the feelings of others. 

“Alice,” said dear Mrs. Bead, trying to 
turn the conversation, “I see thee wears a 
very pretty ring.” 


64 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Dotty took it off her finger, and passed 
it around for inspection. 

“ I never had a ring before,” said she, 
with animation. “ I never had anything to 
wear — ’cept clothes.” 

Percy laughed. 

found the pearl in an oyster stew, 
grandma. It is such a very funny place 
Out West.” 

“ Yes, it is really a pearl,” said Percy, 
only spoiled by boiling. Look here, 
Toddlekins ; oysters don’t grow Out West; 
they grow here on the coast. You’d better 
study astronomy.” 

Dotty took refuge in silence again, like 
an oyster withdrawing into his shell. 

“ O, Dotty,” said Susy, presently, “ tell 
me what you saw Out West. I want to 
hear all about it,” 

^‘Well, I saw a pandrammer,” replied 
Dotty, briefly. 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


65 


“ What in the world is that ? ” said Johnny. 

“ It is a long picture, and they keep pull- 
ing it out like India rubber.” 

“ She means a 'panorama” cried Johnny. 
“Why, I went to one last night. We can 
see as much as you can, without going 
Out AVest, either.” 

Here was another sensation. Dotty might 
as well have been eating ashes as the deli- 
cious dinner before her. 

“ Don’t you like your pudding, dear ? ” 
asked aunt Eastman. 

“O, yes’m; I always like coJcer-whacJcer” 
replied the unfortunate Dotty, stumbling 
over the word tapioca. 

In spite of their mother’s warning frown, 
the i/hree young Eastmans laughed, while 
Susy and Prudy, who had kinder hearts and 
better manners, drew down their mouths 

with the greatest solemnity. 

5 


66 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ I ain’t going to speak another word,” 
cried the persecuted little traveller, setting 
down her goblet, and hitting it against her 
plate till it rang again. 

Error!” called out Florence from the 
other side of the table; “there’s no such 
word as ain’t.” 

This was too much. Dotty had smarted 
under these cruel blows long enough. She 
hastily arose from the table, and rushed 
out of the room. 

“ Florence and , Percy, you are both very 
thoughtless,” said Mrs. Eastman, reprov- 
ingly. 

Mrs. Parlin looked deeply pained, as she 
always did w'hen her little daughter gave 
way to her temper; but she made n': allu' 
sion to the subject, and tried to go on with 
her dinner as if nothing had happened. 

Dotty ran into the front yard, threw her- 


A SPOILED DINNEE. 


67 


self on the ground, and buried her face in 
a verbena bed. 

There! it wasn’t of any use; she couldn’t 
be good; it wouldn’t last! When she had 
just come home, and had so many things 
to tell, and supposed everybody would be 
glad to see her and hear her talk, — why, 
Percy and Florence must just spoil it all 
by laughing. O, it was too bad ! 

“ I wish I hadn’t come ! I wish I’d been 
switched off ! ” sighed Dotty, meaning, if 
she meant anything, that she wished the 
cars had whirled her away to the ends of 
the earth, instead of bringing her home, 
where people were all ready with one ac- 
cord to trample her into the dust. 

“ Here I’ve been ’way off, and know how 
to travel, and keep my ticket in my glove. 
Six years old, going on seven. Been down 
in a coal mine, — Prudy never’d dare to. 


68 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Had a jigger cut out of my side. Been to 
the ’Sylum. One , of the conductors said, 
‘That’s a fine little daughter of yours, sir.’ 
I heard him. Aunt ’Ria washed all those 
grease-spots out of my dress, and I had 
on a clean ruffle. And then, just ’cause 
I couldn’t say coker-whacker — ” 

“ There, there, don’t feel so bad, you 
precious sister,” said a soothing voice; and 
a soft cheek was pressed to Dotty’s, and 
a pair of loving arms clasped her close. 
“Percy was real too-bad, and so was Flossy 
— so there!” 

“O, Prudy, I wish they were every one 
of ’em in the penitential, locked in, and 
Johnny too! Me just got home, and never 
did a single thing to them ! And there 
they laughed right in my face ! ” 

“ But yoa know, dear, they don’t think,” 
said Prudy, who found it unsafe to symjia- 




That’s a heautiful Ring on your Finger.” — Page 69. 



A. SPOILED DINNER. 


69 


thize too much with her angry sister; “they 
never do think ; they don’t mean any harm.” 

“ I’ll make ’em think ! ” cried Dotty, fierce- 
ly. “I’ll scare ’em so they’ll think! I’ll 
take a pumpkin, and I’ll take a water- 
melon, and I’ll take — ” 

“Dear me, Dotty, that is a beautiful ring 
on your finger. I wish I had one just 
like it.” 

Dotty cast a suspicious glance at her 
sister. 

“ Don’t you try to pacify me, Prudy 
Parlin.” 

Prudy held a handful of southernwood to 
her nose, and smiled behind it. 

“This isn’t temper', Prudy Parlin, ’cause 
you said your own self they ’bused me.” 

“ Such a cunning little pearl I ” remarked 
Prudy, still admiring the ring; “how glad 
I should be if you’d wish it on to my finger, 
Dotty ! ” 


70 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“They ’bused me, Prudy Parlin, and you 
know it.” 

“Only till night, Dotty Dimple. Just 
wish it on till night.” 

“Well, there,” exclaimed Dotty, at last; • 
hold out your finger if you can’t stop teas- 
ing. But I haven’t any temper, and you 
needn’t act just’s if you’s trying to pacify 
me.” 

“ O, thank you. Dotty ; on my third 
finger.” 

“Now I’ve wished it on, Prudy; and its 
a good-enough wish for you, when you 
won’t pity me; but now I’m going up in 
the bathing-room to stay, and you can’t 
make me come down — not a single step.” 

“I shan’t want you to come down. Dotty. 
There’s the very place I’m going to myself. 
We’ll carry up the needle-gun ; it’s the 
nicest thing to play with. Come, let’s 


A SPOILED DINNER. 


71 


liurry up stairs the back way, little sister, 
for they’ll be out from dinner, and see us.” 

Dotty needed no second hint. In half 
an hour she was so far recovered from the 
megrims as to be hungry ; when Prudy 
secretly begged some pudding for her of 
the willing Angeline. 

Then the same little peacemaker went to 
her cousins, and made them each and all 
promise to be more careful of her sister’s 
feelings; after which there was nut-crack- 
ing in the wood-shed, and a loud call for 
INIiss Dimple, who consented to go down 
after much urging, and was the merriest 
one of the whole party. 


72 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER T. 

PLAYING TRUANT. 

For several days after her return Dotty 
Dimple was in a state of jubilee. She had 
a great deal to tell, and the whole houseliold 
was ready to listen. Norah would stand 
with a dish or a rolling-pin in her hand, and 
almost forget what she had intended to do 
in her desire to hear every word Miss Dotty 
was saying. 

Once, when she related her adventure 
with the pigeon-pie, grandma Read, who 
was clear-starching her caps, let the starch 
boil over on the stove; and at another time 
Mrs. Parlin was so much absorbed in a de- 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


73 


scription of Phebe, that she almost spiced a 
custard with cayenne pepper. 

All these evidences of interest were very 
flattering to Dotty. Sometimes she took 
Prudy one side, and told her the same story 
twice over, to which Prudy always listened 
with unfailing politeness. As I said before, 
while this excitement lasted Miss Dimple 
was in a state of jubilee. But by and by 
the novelty wore oflP ; she had told the fami- 
ly everything she could possibly think of^ 
and now longed for a few pairs of fresh ears 
into which to pour her stories. Everybody 
else was working for Christmas; Dotty alone 
was idle; for no one had time to give her a 
daily stint, and see that she accomplished it. ^ 

“ After the holidays I shall have to go to 
school ; so now is my time to play,” said she 
to herself, ‘^and I ought to play every min- 
ute, as tight as I can spring.” 


74 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


But she tried so hard to be happy that the 
efiPort was really very tiresome. If she had 
only had something to do, I am almost sure 
she would not have fallen into the misfor- 
tune which I am about to record. 

One day her mother sent her to a worsted 
store to pattern some worsteds. A girl be- 
hind the counter gave her the right shades, 
and she slowly started for home. It was 
about four o’clock of a November day. Dot- 
ty, glancing idly at the sky, saw that the 
sun was already getting low. 

“ How queer it is ! ” thought she; it seems 
as if the sun grows- sleepy very early now- 
adays, and goes to bed right in the middle 
of the afternoon. Well, I declare, if there 
isn’t Lina Rosenbug ! ” 

The beautiful little Jewess was just turn- 
ing an opposite corner, and, as usual, the 
sight of her face bewitched Dotty in a minute, 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


75 


“ O, Lina Rosenbug, come over here ! How 
do you do ? ” 

“I’m very well, Dotty: how do you do? 
Only I wish you wouldn’t call me a bug ! ” 

“Well, then, Lina, you mustn’t have 
bugs in your name if you don’t want to 
be called by ’em. Did you know I’d been 
Out West?” 

“ No ; you haven’t. Dotty Dimple ! ” 

“ Yes, I have ; you may ask my father. I 
kept my own ticket right in my glove, and 
took ’most the whole care of myself. Went 
to the Blind ’Sylum ; found a pearl in an 
oyster; been ’way down in a coal mine; 
and — and — ” 

“ Come to my house, won’t you, and tell 
me all about it ? ” said Lina Rosenberg, look- 
ing as beguiling as possible, and taking 
Dotty’s unresisting hand. 

Dotty knew very well that her mother 


76 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


would never allow her to go to Lina’s house; 
but she did not like to say that, and she only 
replied, — 

“I’ve matched my worsteds, and now I 
must go home.” 

“O, you can go home afterwards. My 
mother said to me to-day, ‘Do you bring 
Dotty Dimple home to supper this very 
night. She’ll be so glad to see you ! ’ ” 

Dotty gave another glance at the sky, then 
one at the city clock. 

“ What time do you drink tea, Lina ? ” 

“ At five, ’most always.” 

Dotty had long felt a great curiosity about 
the domestic affairs of the Jews; and here 
was an unexpected opportunity to sit down 
at the*very table with them. She had an in- 
vitation from the head of the family, and 
that was something which did not happen 
every day. She could go home any time 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


77 


afterwards ; for their own tea-hour was not 
till half past six. 

“ I’ll walk along with you a little way, 
Lina, and think it over.” 

It was true Mrs. Parlin did not approve 
of Mandoline or any of her family; but 
Dotty thought she would forget that, just 
for once. 

“ O, dear ! I keep thinking how my mam- 
ma said, ‘ I do not wish you to play with 
Lina Rosenbug ! ’ Now I can ’most always 
forget easy enough; but when I try to for- 
get, it says itself over and over — and I re- 
member just as hard ! ” 

As they turned another corner they met 
Susy, who had been sent to the dye-house. 

Why, Dotty,” said she, “ what are you 
doing on that street?”, 

Lina spoke up very boldly, — 

“She’s going to the doctor’s with me, Susy 
Parlin, to get a plaster for my mother.” 


78 DOTTY DIMPI.E AT PLAY. 

At this wicked speech Dotty’s heart al- 
most sank into her boots; for she had never 
known before that Lina would tell a deliber- 
ate lie. 

Lina lived in a little grocery store. Her 
father was gone away to-day, and her mother 
had just served a customer with a pound of 
damp brown sugar, saying, as she clipped 

1 • r-’’ 

the string, — - ' 

“ It’s very cheap sweetening ‘at that price ; 
we are going to rise on it to-morrow.” 

After that she stood a minute in front of 
the store, and shook her head at Jaeob, a lit- 
tle boy, some three years old, who w^as try- 
ing to balance a patent washboard against a 
tree which grew out of the brick pavement. 
It was a large, scrawny tree, whieh looked 
as if it was obliged to live there, but didn’t 
want to, and liad tried in vain to get burnt 
up in the Portland fire. From the lower 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


79 


branches of the tree depended a couple of 
dun-colored hams, and a painted board, with 
the words, '^Good Family Butter.” 

“ Come in, Jacob, you naughty boy ! ” said 
Mrs. Rosenberg, this time shaking him, be- 
cause she was afraid he would injure the pat- 
ent wash-board. Then Jacob, who had been 
waiting for the shaking, and would not stir 
without it, went in at the side door crying ; 
for the family lived in one end of the store. 

INIrs. Rosenberg had a great many children, 
and was obliged to work very hard at various 
employments. Just now she went to spread- 
ing pumpkin-seeds to dry under the stove. 
She was not expecting company; and when 
Mandoline entered with Dotty, she looked up 
from her work with a frown. 

“ WhoVe you brought home with you 
this time, INIandoline Rosenberg ? ” said she. 
“ Take off your hat and hang it over them 


80 DOTTY DTMPT.E AT PLAY. 

tommatuses ; but mind yer don’t drop it 
into that dish of lard.” 

“ Mother,” pleaded Mandoline, we want 
to go up chamber to see my pretty things; 
her mother sent her a-purpose.” 

“ No, she didn’t ; no such a thing! You’re 
a master hand to pick up children and fetch 
’em home here, and then crawl out of it by 
lying ! Besides, you’ve got to knit. I must 
have those socks done by to-morrow noon, 
Mandy, or I’ll know the reason why.” 

As Mrs. Bosenberg spoke, she pushed a 
waiter full of seeds under the stove as if she 
hated the very sight of them ; and when she 
stood up again. Dotty observed that her 
dirty calico dress did not come anywhere 
near the tops of her calf-skin shoes. 

“But, mother,” said Mandoline, with a 
winning smile, “ this is Dotty Dimple, the 
little girl that gave me the needle-book.” 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


81 


This was partly true. Dotty had given 
Mandoline an old needle-book ; but it had 
been in return for some maple sugar, whicn 
the little Jewess had pilfered from her 
father’s store. 

“Dotty Dimple, is it?” said Mrs. Rosen- 
berg, with a sharp look at the little guest. . 

“ I don’t know now any better than I did 
before. That’s a name, for a doll-baby, I 
should say.” 

“Alice Parlin, mother.” 

“Is it? O, well; you may take her up 
stairs out of my way; but mind, you must 
knit every minute you’re gone.” 

Dotty was greatly abashed by this recep- 
tion, and would have rushed out of the 
house, but Mandoline held her fast. 

“You shan’t go a step,” said she, “I’ll 
hide your hat.” 

So Dotty, under peril of going home bare- 
6 


82 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


lieaded, was obliged to creep up the rickety 
staircase Avith Mandoline. She likened her 
feelings on the occasion to those of a person 
whom “the mayor is putting in the lock- 
up.” Indeed, the “ lock-up ” was Dotty’s 
dream of all the horrors, and she had no 
doubt it was the mayor himself who always 
stood with his hands outstretched, ready to 
thrust wicked people into it. 

The chamber which the little girls entered 
was an unfinished one, and from the rafters 
hung paper bags of dried herbs; for, besides 
being a housekeeper and clerk, Mrs. Ro- 
senberg was something of a doctress with- 
al, and made “bitters” for her particular 
friends. 

“Sit down here on the bed. Dotty Dim- 
ple, and look at my paper dolls,” said Lina, 
producing ’from under a disjointed chair, 
an old cigar box full of paper heroes and 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


83 


heroines. Mandoline was an artist in her 
way, and these figures were clad in the most 
brilliant costumes of silver and gold. Dotty 
was dazzled. Never before had it been her 
lot to see such magnificent dolls, — dolls 
which shone so in the sun ; every one of 
them a king or a queen, and fit to wear a 
crown. 

“ O, Lina,” sighed she, in ecstasy, where 
do you get your silver and gold ?” 

“Tease for it,” replied the little Jewess. 

Dotty knew, to her own sorrow, that Lina 
was capable of teasing. It was hard to 
keep so much as an apple or a peppermint 
away from her if she happened to set her 
heart on it. 

“ I’ll giv0 you twenty dolls,” said Lina, 
“if you’ll let me have your ring; and it 
isn’t a very pretty ring, either; looks like 
brass.” 


84 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Dotty locked her fingers together. 

“You can’t tease away my owny dony 
pearl, Lina, if it is brass ; so you needn’t 
try.” 

“ Mandoline ! ” called out Mrs. Rosenberg’s 
sharp voice from down stairs, “are you at 
work?” 

“ O, dear ! ” said Lina, sauntering along to 
an old chest, and taking her knitting from 
the top of it; “that’s always the way. I 
thought >if you came, mother’d let me 
play.” 

Dotty understood from this remark why 
Lina had asked her to go home with her. 
It was not because she wished to hear any 
of Dotty’s brilliant stories, for she had not 
asked a single question about Out West; it 
was because she hoped for a reprieve from 
the dreaded knitting. 

“ She’s a real naughty little girl,” thought 


PLAYING TRUANT. 


85 


Miss Dimple; “and if she hadn’t hided my 
hat, I’d go right home.” 

There was a heavy tread on the stairs. 
Mrs. Rosenberg was coming up, partly to 
see if her daughter was knitting, and partly 
to hang a paper bag on the Iqng pole over- 
head. Mandoline was dreadfully afraid of 
her mother, and, in her eagerness to be 
found hard at work, she rattled her needles 
very fast, while her fingers wandered aim- 
lessly about among tlie stitches. Mrs. Ro- 
senberg detected the cheat at once; and, as 
she was needing the money for the socks, 
she scolded Mandoline soundly, and pelted 
her pretty little hands, rat, tat, tat, with a 
steel thimble. 

Dotty was a little startled, and peeped 
out at Lina from the corners of her eyes. 
Mrs. Rosenberg scolded so hard that the 
paper bags overhead seemed to rattle, and 


86 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


some yellow pollen dropped out of one of 
them like shooting stars. 

Dotty had never known that there are 
such cruel people in the world; but let me 
tell you, little reader, -every mother is not, 
like the gentle, low-voiced woman who 
takes you in her lap, and kindly reproves 
you when you have done wrong. No ; there 
are very different mothers ; hard-working, 
ignorant ones, who do not know how to 
treat their children any more than you know 
how to build a brick house. 

Mrs. Rosenberg was so severe and unrea- 
sonable, that her little daughter, through 
fear of her, had learned to deceive. Still 
Mrs. Rosenberg loved Mandoline, and would 
have been a better mother, perhaps, if she 
had only known how, and had not had so 
much work to do. 

Presently she went down stairs, and left 
the little girls together. 



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PLAYING TEUANT. 


87 


“ Good ! ” said Lina, in a low voice. 
“ She’s gone ; now we’ll play.” 

“But you can’t knit if you play, Lina. 
Tell me where you hided my hat, ’cause I 
want to go home.” 

“ You shan’t go home till after supper, you 
little darling Dotty Dimple.” 

“ O, but I must go, for my mother doesn’t 
know where I am,” said Dotty, in a dreary 
tone. She had no longer any curiosity re- 
garding Jewish suppers ; all she wanted was 
the liberty to get away. But it is always 
easier to fall into a trap than to get out of 
it. Mandoline would not produce the miss- 
ing hat, and it was no light matter for Dotty 
to go down stairs, among the noisy, quarrel- 
some children, and beg the severe Mrs. Ro- 
senberg to take her part. If she did so, 
perhaps the woman would pelt her with the 
steel thimble. Perhaps, too, she would say 


88 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Mandoline might keep the hat. So Dotty 
played synagogue,” and all the while the 
sun was ' dropping down, down the sky, as 
if it had a leaden weight attached to it, to 
make it go faster. 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


89 


CHAPTER VI, 

A STRANGE VISIT. 

The same warfare of words continued to 
come up from the kitchen, and presently 
the odor of sausages stole up, too ; Mrs. 
Rosenberg was preparing supper. It seemed 
to the impatient Dotty that she was a long 
while about it; but she worked as fast as 
she could, with so many .children clinging 
to her skirts, and impeding her movements. 

“ Supuer, Mandoline ! ” called she at last, 
in a shrill voice; and the little girls went 
down. 

The supper was palatable enough, but 
very unwholesome, and the table-cloth was 
dirty and wrinkled. 


90 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“You don’t seem to like my cooking,” 
said Mrs. Rosenberg, with a displeased 
glance at Dotty’s full plate. 

“Yes’m,” replied the little guest, faintly; 
“but I’ve eaten up my appetite.” 

At the same time she swallowed a little 
oily gravy in desperation, and looked slyly 
to see if Solly was watching her. Yes, he 
was, and so were all the rest of the family, 
as if she had been a peculiar kind of ani- 
mal, just caught and caged. 

“I suppose they are dreadful nice folks 
at your house,” continued Mrs. Rosenberg. 
“ I almost wonder your mother let you come 
here to play with my poor little girl. Man- 
dy’s just as good as you are, though, — 
you can tell her so, — and she’s got a sight 
prettier eyes.” 

Dotty’s heart kept swelling and swelling, 
till presently it seemed as if there wasn’t 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


91 


room enough in her whole body to hold it. 
She thought of the cheerful, orderly tea- 
table at home ; she recalled her mother’s 
gentle ways, her lovely face, and longed to 
kiss her cheek, and whisper, “ Forgive me.” 

“Mamma’ll be just as patient with me,” 
thought Dotty ; “ she always is ! But if I 
once get home. I’ll never make her patient 
any more. I’ll never run away again; not 
unless she asks me to — I won’t.” 

The children, as fast as they finished their 
suppers, jumped up and ran away from the 
table — all but Solly, who had some faint 
idea that it was not polite to do so before 
company. He was a natural gentleman ; 
and it was unfortunate that just at this 
time his mother was obliged to send him 
to Munjoy of an errand. Otherwise he 
would have made his sister give up Dotty’s 
hat, and perhaps would have walked home 
with the unhappy child himself. 


92 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAT. 


As it was, Dotty did not seem to have a 
friend in the world. It was now so dark 
that she hardly dared look out of doors ; 
but even in the brightest daylight she could 
not have found her way home. 

“You’ve got to stay all night,” said -Man- 
doline. “ Isn’t that splendid ? ” 

Mandoline did not mean to be cruel. She 
had observed that her mother urged her own 
guests to stay, and sometimes kept them 
almost by force. This she supposed was 
true politeness. More than that, she was 
anxious, for private reasons, to hold Dotty, 
so she might not have to knit so much. 
She knew, too, that her mother was proud 
to have such a well-bred little girl in the 
house. So she would not give up Dot- 
ty’s hat. 

At eight o’clock. Dotty went to bed with 
Mandoline in the unfinished chamber, sorely 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


93 


against her will ; and Mandoline told her 
such dreadful stories that she could not 
close her eyes for fright. 

“This is the queerest house I was ever 
in,” thought she, “and the queerest bed. 
I s’pose it’s made of pin-feathers, for they 
stick into me awfully.” 

The bed was on the floor, and was found- 
ed upon woolsacks and buffalo skins. The 
sleeping arrangements in this house were 
somewhat peculiar. Mrs. Rosenberg was 
like the old woman in the shoe, and she 
stowed her numerous family away for the 
night in as little space as possible. For 
instance, the four youngest children slept 
together in one trundle-bed, two at the top 
and two at the bottom, their feet coming 
together in the middle. But Mandoline 
had left the trundle bed, and was lying on 
the floor with her guest. The companion 


94 


DOTLY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


who usually slept with her at the foot of 
the truudle-bed — little Rosina — was quite 
indignant at being deserted, and made a 
loud outcry, in the hope of attracting her 
mother’s attention. 

“ I don’t want to sleep alo-one ! ” said 
she; “ I don’t want to sleep alo-o-one ! ” 

At another time Dotty would have laughed 
heartily. It was so absurd for a child to 
be lonesome when there were three in the 
bed ! But Dotty was too low-spirited even 
to smile. Mrs. Rosenberg came up and 
boxed Rosina’s ears ; and after that the 
trundle-bed subsided. 

At last, when Dotty supposed it must be 
midnight, though it was' only nine o’clock, 
there came a loud knocking at the side 
door. She hid her face under the cover- 
let, feeling sure it was either a wild Indian 
or a highway robber. 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


95 * 


“Don’t be afraid,” said Mandoline, rous- 
ing herself. “ It is somebody after beer, 
and mother has locked up the store.” 

No, it was Mr. Pari in’s voice which spoke. 
Dotty’s swollen heart gave a great bound, 
and then sank heavier than ever. 

“ My little daughter Alice has run away.” 
That was what he said. “ Is she in your 
house, Mrs. Rosenberg?” 

“ Yes,” replied Mrs. Rosenberg, “ I ex- 
pect its likely she is; but she and my 
Mandoline’s been abed and asleep two 
hours.” 

“ O, papa, I’m wide awake ! ” cried little 
Dotty, with an eager shriek, which pierced 
the rafters. 

“ Good night, then,” said Mr. Parlin, 
coldly. 

“ O, but, papa, I want to go home. What 
did my mamma say about me ? ” 


96 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


^^She said she had sent you of an errand. 
When you have finished your errand, you 
may come home. Good night.” 

“ O, NOT good night ! ” screamed Dotty, 
almost falling down stairs in her haste, and 
fastening her dress as she ran. “ It was 
^cause Lina hid my hat ; and that was 
why—” 

“By the way,” said Mr. Parlin, without 
paying the slightest attention to his half- 
frantic little daughter, who was clinging to 
his knees, and pleading with her whole 
soul, “ Mrs. Rosenberg, I’m sorry to trouble 
you, but if you will be kind enough to keep 
this little runaway girl till I send for her, 
I shall be very much obliged.” 

“O, certainly, Mr. Parlin; certainly, sir,” 
replied the Jewess, smiling very sweetly, 
and trying to pat Dotty’s head, which was 
in such violent motion that she only sue- 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


97 


ceeded in touching the end of her nose. 
No one who had looked at Mrs. Rosenberg 
at that moment would have suspected her 
of being a vixen. She was sure Mr. Par- 
lin would pay her handsomely if she kept 
his daughter there for a day or two; and 
the prospect of a little money always made 
the poor woman very amiable. 

Thank you, madam,” said Mr. Parlin, 
gently disengaging himself from Dotty. 
“When you are tired of my little daugh- 
ter, will you please let me know? Good- 
night, Mrs. Rosenberg ; good-night, Alice.” 

And, before Dotty had time to scream 
again, he was gone. 

For a moment she stood quite still, gaz- 
ing at the door-latch; then rushed out into 
the darkness, calling, “Papa, papa!” But 
Mrs. Rosenberg laid her strong hands upon 
her, and brouglit her back. 

7 


98 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


So your mother didn’t say you might 
come ? I thought it was queer. Hush ! 
hush ! Don’t go into fits, child. There 
are no bears in this house, and nothing will 
hurt you.” 

Mrs. Rosenberg’s manner Avas much kinder 
than it had been before; and Avith a child’s 
quick insight. Dotty perceived that her fa- 
ther’s coming had wrought the change. 

“ I want to go home ! I AA'ant to go 
home ! ” cried she, Avith another passionate 
outburst. “O, take me — do! They AA'on’t 
send for me, never! Take me, and I’ll 
give you — O, Mrs. Rosenbug, I’ll give 


For a little Avhile there was quite a scene 
at the little grocery, and it repented Man- 
doline that she had eA^er hidden Dotty’s hat. 
The trundle-bed AA'aked up at both ends 
and screamed; the black and tan dog, aaIio 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


99 


slept under the counter in the store, barked 
lustily; the parrot in the blue cage called 
out, “ Quit that ! quit that ! ” and Mrs. Ro- 
senberg was afraid a policeman would come 
in to inquire the cause of the uproar. She 
pattered about in a pair of her husband’s 
cotton-velvet slippers, and tucked all her 
little ones into bed again, very much as 
if they had been clothes in a boiler, which 
she was forcing down with a stick. She 
was a woman who would be obeyed ; and 
Dotty, finding it of no use to hold out against 
fate, went up stairs at last, and lay down 
beside Mandoline on the “pin-feathers.” 

This stolen visit had turned out quite, 
quite different from her anticipations. In- 
stead of a delightful supper of some myste- 
rious Jewish cookery, she had been drink- 
ing gall and wormwood. That Lina would 
not let her go — that was the gall; that 


100 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


her father made her stay — this was the 
wormwood. 

^‘She is a tough piece,” sighed Mrs. Ro- 
senberg, as she laid her weary limbs to re- 
pose; “I didn’t know, one while, but she’d 
get away in spite of me. I wonder what 
her father’ll pay me. He seems to think 
this is a house of correction. Her mother 
won’t be likely to let her stay more than 
one day. I’ll have on the best table-cloth 
for breakfast; and along in the forenoon 
I’ll fetch out some macaroni cakes and 
lager beer ; that’ll coax her up, I guess.” 

Just then Mrs. Rosenberg down stairs 
and Dotty Dimple up stairs both fell asleep. 
One dreamed of running away and being 
chased by a dog with a hat on his head, 
who barked “Good-night” as fiercely as a 
bite. The other dreamed of money and 
brown sugar. And all the while the rats 


A STRANGE VISIT. 


101 


were treating themselves to nibbles of 
wood ; but nobody heard them. Be care- 
ful, old rats ! Your teeth have done mis- 
chief before now ! The night wore on to 
the wee small hours, when a loud noise 
like a cannon startled Mrs. Bosenberg; or 
was she dreaming? The house was shaken 
to its very foundation, as if by an earth- 
quake, and the room was full of smoke. 
She was just running for the children, 
when the building fell together with a 
crash, the roof was blown off into the 
street, the windows were shivered to atoms, 
and tongues of flame leaped madly up from 
the ruins. 

AVhat did it mean? She was so stunned 
by the shock that she scarcely cared whether 
one of her children was spared or not; she 
only thought in her stupor that Mr. Parlin 
would not pay her for Dotty’s lodging if 
the child was blown to pieces. 


102 


DOTTY. DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ I know how it happened,” said she, 
twitching at her own hair to arouse her- 
self. “Just as Abraham always said; the 
rats have been nibbling matches in the 
store ; they’ve burned a hole through the 
floor, and set fire to that keg of gunpow- 
der. Yes, that’s it!” 


PLAYING PRISONER. 


103 


CHAPTER VII. 

PLAYING PRISONER. 

1 KNOW how it happened, too. It came 
of eating sausages. Mrs. Rosenberg, after 
she was fairly awake, felt so uncomfortable 
and oppressed that she went up stairs to 
see if the children were safe. Really, I 
do suppose those little human souls were 
precious to her, after all. 

There lay Mandoline and Dotty side by 
side on the buflPalo skins ; and the Jewish 
mother stood in her short night-dress, with 
a tallow candle in her hand, and gazed at 
them tenderly. That horrible dream had 
stirred the fountain of love in her heart. 


104 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


They made a beautiful picture, and there 
was no stain of evil in their young faces. 
It seems as if the angel of Sleep flies away 
with loads of naughtiness, for he always 
leaves sleeping children looking very inno- 
cent. But, alas ! he brings back next morn- 
ing all he carried away, for the little ones 
wake up with just as bad hearts as ever. 

“ What sweet little creeters ! ” said Mrs. 
Bosenberg, bending over and kissing them 
both; “just like Seraphims right out of the 
clouds.” 

Softly, madam ! If a drop of tallow 
should fall on them from that candle, they 
might take to themselves wings and fly 
away. That was what Cupid did in the 
fairy story, and you are in fairy-land your- 
self, Mrs. Bosenberg; you are still half 
asleep. 

She looked at Mandoline’s perfect little 
hand, lying outside the patchwork quilt. 


PLAYING PRISONER. 


105 


“ It doesn’t seem, now,” murmured the 
mother, with a tear in her eye, “that I 
could ever whack them pretty fingers with 
a thimble. I do believe if I wasn’t pes- 
tered to death with everything under the 
sun to do, I might be kind o’ half-way 
decent.” 

Perhaps the poor woman told the truth; 
I think she did. 

Then, as she stood there, she breathed a 
little prayer without any words, — not for 
herself — for she did not suppose God would 
hear that , — but for her children that she 
“banged about” every day of their lives. 

She was not really a Jewess, for she had 
no religion of any sort, and never went to' 
church; but I am sure of one thing: little 
overworked Mandoline would have loved 
lier mother better if she had known she 
ever prayed for her at all. 


106 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


In the morning, Mrs. Rosenberg was just 
as hard and sharp as ever; she could not 
stop to be pleasant. Dotty longed to get 
away; but she was an exile from her own 
dear home; whither could she turn? 

It was a cold morning, and the children 
ran down .stairs half dressed and shivering. 
Dotty spread out her stiff, red fingers before 
the cooking-stove like the sticks of a fan. 
“ O, hum ! ” thought she, drearily, “ I wish 
I could see the red coals in our grate. My 
mamma wouldn’t let me go to the table with 
such hair as this. Prudy’d say ’twas ‘ haruni 
scarum.’ But I can’t brush it with a tooth- 
comb, ’thout any glass — so there ! ” 

Dotty’s curly hair looked quite as respect- 
able as Mandoline’s. Mrs. Rosenberg was 
far too busy to attend to her children’s 
heads. They might be rough on the out- 
side, and full of mischief inside; but she 
could not stop to inquire. 


PLAYING PEISONER. 


107 


“ What a dreadful nice breakfast ! ” re- 
marked Judith, rubbing her hands, and 
accidentally hitting little Jacob, who forth- 
with spilled some molasses on the clean 

table-cloth, and had his ears boxed in con- 
sequence. It was veiy evident that this 

meal was a, much better one than usual — 
a sort of festival in honor of Dotty Dimple : 
Dutch cheese and pickles, mince-pie and 

gingerbread, pepper-boxes and green and 
yellow dishes, were mixed up together as 
if they had been stirred about witli a 

spoon. 

Dotty had not intended to eat a mouth- 
ful; but after her light supper of the night 
before, she was really hungry, and, in spite 
of her best resolves, the fish-hash and corn- 
cake gradually disappeared from her plate. 

After breakfast she felt more resigned, 
and armed herself to meet her fate. Mi-s. 


108 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Rosenberg graciously allowed Mandoline to 
lay aside her tedious knitting, and give her 
undivided attention to her guest. Dotty 
had no heart for play. 

“ Seems as if I should choke in this 
house,” said she ; let’s go out and breathe.” 

The air inside the house was rather sti- 
fling from a mixture of odors, and soon the 
grocery began to fill with loud-talking men 
and boys ; but not the least of Dotty’s 
troubles was the black and tan dog, who 
seemed to have just such a temper as Mrs. 
Rosenberg, and would certainly have scold- 
ed if he had had the gift of speech. 

The two little girls went out to "walk ; 
but it was not a pleasant street where the 
grocery stood, and Dotty hurried on to a 
better part of the town. They fluttered 
about for two or three hours, as aimless as 
a couple of ^yhite butterflies. Just as they 


PLAYING PRISONER. 


109 


were turning to go back to the dismal little 
grocery, which Dotty thought was more 
like a lock-up than ever, they met Mr. and 
Mrs. Parlin riding out in a carriage. 

Dotty felt a sudden tumult of joy and 
shame, but the joy was uppermost. She 
rushed headlong across the street, swinging 
her arms and startling the horse, who sup- 
posed she was some new and improved kind 
of windmill, dressed up in a little girl’s 
clothes. 

“ O, my darling mamma, my darling 
mamma ! ” 

To her surprise, the horse did not stop. 
He only pricked up his ears, and looked 
with displeasure at the windmill, but kept 
along as before. 

“ Mamma, mamma, I say ! ” 

Her mother never even looked at her, 
but turned lier gaze to the blackened trees, 
and the heaps of ruin along the pavement. 


110 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT 'PLAY. 


“ O, papa ! O, stop, papa ! It’s me ! 
It’s Dotty ! ” 

Mr. Parlin bent on his runaway daughter 
a glance of indifference, and called out, in 
passing, — 

“ What strange little girl ' is this, who 
seems to know us so well? It looks like 
my daughter Alice. If it is, she needn’t 
come to my house to-day; she may go and 
finish her visit at Mrs. Rosenberg’s.” 

Then the horse trotted on, — indeed, he 
had never paused a moment, — and carried 
both those dear, dear people out of sight. 

What did they mean? What had hap- 
pened to Dotty Dimple, that her own father 
and mother did not know her? 

She looked down at the skirt of her 
dress, at her gaiters, at her little bare 
hands, to make sure no wicked fairy had 
changed her. Not that she suspected any 



Playing Tp^ant 


Page 110 




PLAYING PRISONEE. 


Ill 


such tiling. She understood but too well 
what her father and mother meant. They 
knew her, but had not chosen to recognize 
her, because they were displeased. 

Dotty’s little heart, the swelling of which 
had not gone down at all during the night, 
now ached terribly. She covered her face 
with her hands, and groaned aloud. 

“Don’t,” said Mandoline, touched with 
jjity. “They no business to treat you so.” 

“ O, Lina, don’t you talk ! You don’t 
know anything about it. You never had 
such a father’ll mother’s they are ! And 
now they won’t let me come into the 
house ! ” 

This wail of despair would have melted 
Mrs. Parlin if she could have heard it. It 
was only because she thought it necessary 
to be severe that she had consented to do 
as her husband advised, and turn coldly 


112 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


away from her dear little daughter. Dotty 
was a loving child, in spite of her disobedi- 
ence, and this treatment was almost more 
than she could bear. She found no conso- 
lation in talking with Lina, for she knew 
Lina could not understand her feelings. 

^^She hasn’t any Susy and Prudy at her 
house, nor no anything” thought Dotty. 
“ If I lived with Mrs. Posenbug and that 
dog, I’d want to be locked out; I’d ask if 
I couldn’t. But, O, my darling mamma! 
I’ve been naughty too many times ! When 
I’d been naughty fifty, sixty, five hundred 
times, then she forgave me; but now she 
can’t forgive me any more; it isn’t pos- 
sible.” 

Dotty staggered, against a girl who was 
drawing a baby-carriage, but recovered 
herself. 

“ It isn’t possible to forgive me any more. - 


PLAYING PRISONER. 


113 


She told me not to go on the water, and I 
went. She told me not to have temper, 
and I had it. Every single thing she’s told 
me not to do, I always went and did it. 
She said, ‘ I do not wish you to play with 
Lina Rosenbug ; ’ and then I went right off 
and played with her. I didn’t have a bit 
good time; but that’s nothing. She hided 
my hat — Lina did ; but if I’d gone home, 
straight home, and not gone to her house, 
then she couldn’t have hided it. ' 

“ I was naughty ; I was real naughty ; I 
was as naughty as King Herod and King 
Pharaoh. Nobody’ll ever love me. I’m a 
poor orphanless child ! I’ve got a father’n 
mother, but it’s just the same as if I didn’t, 
for they won’t let me call ’em by it. O, 
they didn’t die, but they won’t be any fa- 
ther’n mother to me ! 

‘ What strange little girl is this ? ’ that’s 
8 


114 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


what my papa said. ‘ Looks like my daugh- 
ter Alice ! ’ O, I wish I could die ! ” 

“ Come, come,” said Lina ; “ let’s go home. 
Mother said you and I might have some 
macaroni cakes and lager beer, if we 
wouldn’t let the rest of ’em see us at it.” 

“ I don’t care anything about your locker 
beer, Lina Rosenbug, nor your whiskey 
and tobacco pipes, either. Nor neither, nor 
nothing,” added the desolate child, standing 
“ stock still,” with the back of her head 
against a pile of bricks, her eyes closed, 
and her hands folded across her bosom. 

“ There, there ; you’re a pretty sight now, 
Dotty Dimple ! What if you should freeze 
so ! Come along and behave.” 

“ I can’t, I can’t ! ” 

“ If you don’t. Dotty, I’ll have to go into 
that barber’s shop. I know the man, and 
I’ll make him carry you home piggei'back’' 


PLAYING PRISONER. 


115 


if I’ve got to go, I’ll go,” said 
Dotty, rousing herself, and starting ; “ but 
I’d rather be dead, over’n over ; and wish 
I was ; so there I ” 


116 


DOTTY DISIPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PLAYING THIEF. 

This day was the longest one to be found 
in the almanac; it was longer than all the 
line of railroad from Maine to Indiana and 
back again. 

Dotty shut her lips together, and suffered 
in silence. But when the afternoon was 
half spent, it suddenly occurred to her that 
if she did not go home she should die. 
Soldiers had died of homesickness, for she 
had heard her father _ say so. She had not 
been able to swallow a mouthful of dinner, 
and that fact was of itself rather alarming. 

“ Perhaps I’m going to have the typo. 


PLAYING THIEF. 


117 


Any way, my head aches. Besides, my 
papa didn’t say I mustn’t go home. He 
said I must finish my visit, and I have. 
O, I’ve finislicd that all up, ever and ever 
and ever so long ago.” 

She and Mandoline went out again to 
“ breathe,” Mrs. Rosenberg giving her 
daughter a warning glance from the door- 
way, which meant, “Be watchful, Mandy!” 
for the look of fixed despair on the little 
prisoner’s face gave the woman some anxi- 
ety lest she should try to escape. 

* The unhappy child walked on in silence, 
twisting a lock of her front hair, and look- 
ing up at the sky. A few soft snow-flakes 
were dropping out of the clouds. Every 
flake seemed to fall on her heart. Winter 
was coming. It was a gray, miserable 
world, and she was left out in the cold. 
She remembered she had been happy once, 


118 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


but that was ages ago. It wasn^t likely she 
should ever smile again ; and as for laughter, 
she knew that was over with her forever. 
Susy and Prudy were at home, making 
book-marks and cologne mats; they could 
smile, for they hadn’t run away. 

“I shouldn’t think my marama’d care if 
I went in at the back door,” thought Dotty, 
meekly. “If she locks me out, I can lie 
down on the steps and freeze.” 

But the question was, how to get away 
from Mandoline, who had her in charge like 
a sharp-eyed sheriff 

“That’s the street I turn to go to my 
house — isn’t it, Lina ? ” asked she, quickly. 

“ I shan’t tell you. Dotty Dimple. Why 
do you ask?” 

“ ’Cause I’m going home. I’m sick. Good 
by.” 

“ But you musn’t go a step. Dotty Dimple.” 


PLAYING THIEF. 


119 


^^Yes, I shall; you’re not my mamma, 
Lina Rosenbug; you mustn’t tell me what 
to do.” 

“Well, I’m going everywhere you go, 
Dotty, but I shan’t say whether it’s the 
way to your house, or the way to Boston; 
and you don’t know.” 

Dotty was not to be so easily baffled. 

“ I don’t know myself, Lina Rosenbug, 
but if you’re so mean as not to tell, I can 
ask somebody else that will tell — don’t 
you see?” 

This was a difficulty which Lina had not 
provided for. She was very sorry Dotty 
had come out “to breathe.” 

Very soon they overtook a lady, who 
♦ pointed out the right street to Dotty; and it 
was in an opposite direction from the one 
she was taking. 

“ Now I’ve found out. Miss Rosenbug, and 
you can’t help yourself.” 


120 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“Well, I shall go with you, Dotty, just 
the same. I shall go right up to your 
house, and tell your mother you’ve run 
away again” 

It was very disagreeable to Miss Dimple 
to be pursued in this way; but she put on 
an air of defianee. 

“ I shouldn’t think you’d want to go where 
you wasn’t wanted. Miss Rosenbug.” 

Lina had never intended to do such a 
thing; she had not courage enough. 

“ O, dear ! what shall I do to make you 
go back with me? My mother’ll scold me 
awfully for letting you get away.” 

“Well, there; you’ve got the dreadfulest 
mother, Lina, and I’m real sorry ; but it’s 
no use to tease me ; I wouldn’t go back, 
not if you should cut me up into little 
pieces as big as a cent.” 

Lina was ready to fall upon her knees, 


PLAYIKG TUIEF. 


121 


right on the pavement. She offered Dotty 
paper dolls enough to people a colony; but 
Miss Dimple was as firm as a rock, now 
her face was once set towards home. Lina 
turned on her heel, and slowly walked away. 
Dotty called after har: — 

“There, Lina, now you’ve told an awful 
story ! You said you’d go to my house, and 
tell my mother I’d run away again ; and now 
you don’t dare go; so you’ve told an awful 
wicked story.” 

With this^arting thrust at her tormentor. 
Dotty turned again to the misery of her own 
thoughts. Her home was already in sight; 
but the uncertainty as to her reception there 
made her little feet falter in their course. 
Her head sank lower and lower, till her 
chin snuggled into the hollow of her neck, 
and her eyes peered out keenly from under 
her hat, to make sure no one was watching. 


122 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


There was a door-yard on one side of the 
house. She touched the gate-latch as gently 
as if it had been a loaded gun, and crept 
noiselessly along to the side door. Here 
she paused. Her heart throbbed loudly; 
but, in spite of that, sbe could hear Norah 
walking about, and rattling the covers of 
the stove, as she put in coal. 

Dotty’s courage failed. What if Norah 
should make believe she didn’t know her, 
and shut the door in her face? 

“I can’t see Norah, and hear her say, 
‘What strange little girl is this? It looks 
like our Alice; but it can’t be any such a 
child!’ No, I can’t see anybody. I’ve fin- 
ished my visit; I have a right to come 
home; but p’rhaps they won’t think so. I 
feel’s if I wasn’t half so good as tea- 
grounds, or cofice-grounds, or potato-skins,” 
continued she, with a pang of despair. “I 


PLAYING THIEF. 


123 


know what I’ll do ; I’ll go down cellar ; 
that’s where the rats stay; and if I am 
bad, I hope I’m as good as a rat, for I 
don’t bite.” 

One of the cellar windows had been left 
out in order to admit coal. Through this 
window crept Dotty, regardless of her white 
stockings and crimson dress. When she had 
fairly got her head through the opening, 
and was no longer afraid of being seen, she 
breathed more freely. 

“ Here I am ! Not a bit of me out. But 
I must go on my tipsy-toes, or they’ll hear 
me, and think it’s a buggler.” 

There was quite a steep hill to walk over, 
and she found it anything but a path of 
roses. Once or twice she stumbled and fell 
upon her hands and knees. 

Seems to me,” said she, drawing out 
her foot, which had sunk above the ankle 


124 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


in coal, — “seems to me I have as many 
feet as a caterpillar.” 

But she kept on, down the Hill of Diffi- 
culty, till she reached solid ground. It was 
not a very cheerful apartment, that is cer- 
tain. The light had much difficulty in get- 
ting in at the little windows, and when it 
did fight its way through it was not good 
for much ; it was a gloomy light, and looked 
as if it had had a hard time. 

Dotty went up to the furnace for comfort. 
It was a tall, black thing, doing its best to 
give warmth and cheer to the rooms up 
stairs, but it was of no use to the cellar. 
It was like some brilliant people, who shine 
in society, but are dull and stupid at home. 
Dotty opened the furnace door, and tried to 
warm her cold fingers. 

“ Why, my hands are as black as a sip” 
sighed she; as if she could have expected 
anything else. 


PLAYING THIEF. 


125 


There did not seem to be one ray of hope 
in her little dark soul. She had no tears 
to shed, — she seldom had, — but when she 
was in trouble, she was always in the lowest 
depths. 

“ Pretty well for me to make believe I 
was a thief, and was going to steal ! ‘ Who 

is this strange little girl ? ’ said he ; ‘ it looks 
like—’” 

She heard voices near the cellar door. 
What if Norah should come down after 
butter ? Dotty was not prepared for that. 
She could not hide in the keg of lard, of 
course ; and what should' she do ? 

“ My head is tipside up ; I can’t think.” 
Then she began to wonder how long she 
could live down there, in case she was not 
discovered. 

“ I s’pose I can climb up on the swing 
shelf, and sleep there nights. I can hide 


126 DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 

behind things in the daytime, and when I’m 
hungry I can eat out of the jars and boxes.” 

The sound of voices came down distinctly 
from the kitchen overhead. Dotty crouchec] 
behind an apple barrel, and listened. Grand-, 
ma Read was talking to !Mrs. Parlin, who 
seemed to be in another room. 

‘‘Mary, my glasses are gone this time,” 
said she. “ If little Alice were only here, 
I should set her to hunting.” 

“ She don’t know I’m in the house this 
minute,” thought Dotty ; “ no, under the 
house. Dear me ! ” 

With that she walked softly up the stairs, 
and listened at the door-latch ; for the sound 
of her grandmother’s voice was encouraging, 
and Dotty, in her loneliness, longed to be 
near the dear people of the family, even 
if she could not see them. 

“Edward,” said her- mother, — what music 


PLAYING THIEF. 


127 


there was in her voice ! — “ if you are going 
after that dear child, you’d better take a 
shawl to wrap her in, for it is snowing fast. 
And be sure to tell her we love her dearly, 
every one of us, and don’t believe she will 
ever run away again.” 

O, was her papa going after her ? Did 
they love her, after all ? Were they willing 
to keep her in the iiouse ? ” 

Dotty opened the door before she knew 
it. “ O, mamma, mamma ! ” cried she, rush- 
ing into her mother’s arms. 

“Why, Dotty, you darling child, where 
did you come from?” exclaimed Mrs. Par- 
lin, in great surprise, kissing the little, dirty 
girl, and taking her right to her heart, in 
spite of the coal-dust. 

“If you’ll let me stay at home,” gasped 
Dotty, “if you’ll let me stay at home. I’ll 
live in the kitchen, and won’t go near the 
table.” 


128 DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 

“ Where did you come from ? ” said ISIr. 
Parlin, kissing a clean place on Dotty’s 
black face, and laughing under his breath. 

“ I came through the cellar window, papa.” 

Through the cellar window, child ? ” 

‘‘Yes, papa; I didn’t s’pose you’d care!” 

“ Care ! My dear, your mother is the one 
to care ! Just look at your stockings ! ” 

“ There was coal there^ thrown in,” said 
Dotty, with a quivering lip ; “ and I had to 
W'alk over it, and under it, and through it.” 

“ Was my little daughter afraid to come 
in by the door ? ” 

“ I didn’t know’s you wanted nle, papa. 
I thought you’d say, ‘ What strange child 
is this?’” 

Mr. Parlin, looking at the black streaks 
on Dotty’s woeful face, found it very difficult 
to keep from laughing. “ A strange child ” 
she appeared to be, certainly. 


PLAYING THIEF. 


129 


But I’d got my visit all finished up, ever 
and ever so long ago.” 

“So you really chose to come back to 
us, my dear?” 

“ O, papa, you don’t know ! Did you 
think, did you s’pose — ” 

Here Dotty broke down completely, and, 
seizing her father’s shirt-bosom in both her 
grimy hands, she buried her face in it, and 
sprinkled it with tears of ink. 

There was great surprise throughout the 
house when Dotty’s arrival became known. 

“We didn’t know how to live without 
you any longer,” said Prudy ; “ and to- 
morrow Thanksgiving Day.” 

“ But I never should have come up,” said 
Dotty, “if I hadn’t heard mamma talk about 
loving me just the same ; I never could 
have come up.” 

“ Excuse me for smiling,” said Prudy ; 
9 


130 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


but you look as if you had fallen into the 
inkstand. It is so funny ! ” 

Dotty was not at ^ill amused herself; but 
after she was dressed in clean clothes, she 
felt very happy, and enjoyed her supper 
remarkably well. The thought that they 
“ didn’t know how to live without her ” 
gave a relish to every mouthful. 

It was a delightful evening to the little 
wanderer. The parlor looked so cheerful 
in the rosy firelight that Dotty thought she 
“ would like to kiss every single thing in 
the room.” It was unpleasant out of doors, 
and the wind blew as if all the people in 
the world were deaf, and must be made to 
hear ; but Dotty did not mind that. She 
looked our of the window, and said to 
Prudy, — 

“Seems as if the wind had blown out all 
the stars; biu no matter — is it? It is all 
nice in the house.” 


PLAYING THIEF. 


131 


Then she dropped the curtain, and went 
to sit in her mother’s lap. Not a word of 
reproach had been uttered by any one yet ; 
for it was thought the child had suffered 
enough. 

“ Mamma,” said Dotty, laying her tired 
head on her mother’s bosom, “ don’t you 
think I’m like the prodigal’s- — daughter? 
Yesterday I felt a whisper ’way down in 
my mind, — I didn’t hear it, but I felt it, 
— and it said, ^You mustn’t disobey your 
mamma; you mustn’t play with Lina Eo- 
senbug ! ’ ” 

“ Only think, my child, if you had only 
paid attention to that whisper ! ” 

‘‘Yes, mamma, but I tried to forget it, 
and by and by I did forget it — almost. 
There’s one thing I know,” added Dotty, 
clasping her hands together ; “ I’ll never 

run away again. If I’m going to. I’ll catch 


132 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


myself by the shoulder, and hold on just 
as hard!” 

“My blessed child, I hope so,” said Mrs. 
Parlin, with tears in her eyes and a stronger 
faith in her heart than she had felt for many 
a day that Dotty really meant to do better. 
“You don’t know how it did distress your 
papa and me to have you stay in that house 
a night and a day ; but we hoped it would 
prove a lesson to you ; we meant it for 
your best good.” 

To make sure the lesson would not be 
forgotten, Prudy read her little sister a pri- 
vate lecture. She had written it that after- 
noon with carmine ink, on the nicest of 
tinted paper. Dotty received it very hum- 
bly, and laid it away in the rosewood box 
with her precious things. 


PLAYING THIEF. 


133 


prudy’s lecture. 

must keep good company, Dotty, 
or not any at all. This is a fact. 

“Even an apple is known by the com- 
pany it keeps. Grandpa Parlin says if you 
put apples in a potato bin, they won’t taste 
like apples — they’ll taste like potatoes. 

“Sometimes I think. Dotty, you’d be as 
good and nice as a summer-sweeting, if you 
wouldn’t play with naughty children, like 
Lina Rosenberg; but if you do, you’ll be 
like a potato, as true as you live. 


“J’inis.” 


134 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THANKSGIVING DAY. 

The next day was Thanksgiving. Dotty 
wakened in such a happy mood that it 
seemed to her the world had never looked 
so bright before. 

“ I don’t think, Prudy, it’s the turkey and 
plum pudding we’re going to have that 
makes me so happy — do you?” 

“What is it, then, little sister?” 

“O, it’s ’cause I dreamed I was sleeping 
on pin-feathers, and woke up and found I 
wasn’t. You’d feel a great deal better, 
Prudy, if you’d run away and had such a 
dreadful time, and got home again.” 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


135 


“I don’t want to try it,” returned Prudy, 
with a smile. 

“ No ; but it’s so nice to be forgiven ! ” 
said Dotty, laying her hand on her heart, 
“it makes you feel so easy right in here.” 

A fear came over Prudy that the little 
runaway had not been punished enough. 
But Dotty went on : — 

“It makes you feel as if you’d never be 
naughty again. Now, if my mamma was 
always thumping me with a thimble, and 
scolding me so as to shake the house, I 
shouldn’t care; but when she is just like 
an angel, and forgives me, I do care.” 

“ I’m so glad. Dotty ! I think, honestly, 
mother’s the best woman that ever lived.” 

“Then why didn’t she marry the best 
man ? ” asked Dotty, quickly. 

“Who is that?” 

“ Why, Abraham Lincoln, of course.” 


136 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Prudy laughed. 

“Yes; I suppose Mr. Lincoln was the 
best man that ever lived; but 'papa comes 
next.” 

“ Yes,” said Dotty ; “ I think he does. 
And I’d rather have him for a father than 
Mr. Lincoln, ’cause I’m better ’quainted 
with him. I shouldn’t dare kiss the Presi- 
dent. And, besides that, he’s dead.” 

“You’re a funny girl. Dotty; but what 
you say is true. Everything happens 
just right in this world.” 

“ Does it ? ” said Dotty, wrinkling her 
brows anxiously ; “ does it, now truly ? ” 

“Yes, indeed. Dotty. Anybody wouldn’t 
think so, but it does.” 

“Then I suppose it happens right for me 
to be a bad girl and run away.” 

“ No, indeed. Dotty ; because you can help 
it. Everything is right that we canH help; 
that’s what I mean.” 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


137 


“ Then I s’pose ’twas right for me to 
crawl through the cellar window,” said Dot- 
ty; “for Fm sure I couldn’t help it.” 

“O, dear me! you ask such queer ques- 
tions that I can’t answer them, Dotty Dim- 
ple. All I know is this : everything happens 
just right in this world — when you can’t 
help it.” 

With which sage remark Prudy stepped 
out of bed, and began to dress herself. 
Dotty planted her elbow in the pillow, and 
leaned her head on her hand. 

“I don’t believe it happens just right for 
Mrs. Rosenbug to keep that dog, or to 
thump so with a thimble ; but, then, I 
don’t know.” . ^ 

“I’m hurrying to get dressed,” said Pru- 
dy. “The first bell has rung.” n 

“ Why, I never heard it,” cried Dotty, 
springing up. “ I wouldn’t be late to-day 
for anything.” 


138 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Prudy looked anxiously at her little sister 
to see if she was cross ; but her face was 
as serene as the cloudless sky ; she had 
waked up right, and meant to be good all 
day. When Dotty had one of her especial- 
ly good days, Prudy’s cup of happiness was 
full. She ran down stairs singing, — 

“ Thank God for pleasant weather 1 
Shout it merrily, ye hills, 

And clap your hands together, 

Ye exulting little rills. 

“ Thank him, bird and birdling, 

As ye grow and sing ; 

Mingle in thanksgiving, 

Every living thing, 

Every living thing. 

Every living thing.” 

Dotty was so anxious to redeem her char- 
acter in everybody’s eyes, that she hardly 
knew what she was doing. Mrs. Parlin 
sent her into the kitchen with a message 

O 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


139 


to Norah concerning the turkey; but she 
forgot it on the way, and stood by Norah’s 
elbow gazing at the raisins, fruit, and other 
nice things in a maze. 

“ What did my mamma send me here for ? 
She ought to said it over twice. Any way, 
Norah, now I think of it, I wish you please 
wouldn’t starch my aprons on the inside ; 
starch ’em on the outside, ’cause they rub 
against my neck.” 

‘^Go back and see what your mamma 
wants,” said Norah, laughing. 

“Why, mamma,” cried Dotty reappearing 
in the parlor quite crestfallen — “why, mam- 
ma, I went right up to Norah to ask her, 
and asked her something else. My head 
spins dreadfully.” 

Mrs. Parlin repeated the message ; and 
Dotty delivered it this time correctly, add- 


140 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


Norah, I’m all dressed for din- 
ner; sol can do something for you just as 
well as not. Such days as this, when you 
have so much to do, you ought to let me 
help.” 

To Dotty’s surprise Norah found this 
suggestion rather amusing. 

“ For mercy’s sake,” said she, “ I have 
got my hands full now; and when you are 
round. Miss Dotty, and have one of your 
good fits, it seems as if I should fly.” 

“What do you mean by a good fit?” 

“ Why, you have spells, child — you know 
you do — when butter wouldn’t melt in your 
mouth.” 

“ Do I ? ” said Dotty. “ I thought butter 
always melted in anybody’s mouth. Does 
it make my mouth cold to be good, d’ye 
s’pose ? ” 

“ La, me, I don’t know,” replied the girl, 
washing a potato vigorously, 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 141 

“ I might wash those potatoes,” said Dotty, 
plucking Norah’s sleeve; “do you put soap 
on them ? ” 

“Not much soap — no.” 

“Well, then, Norah, you shouldn’t put 
any soap on them ; that’s why I asked ; for 
my mother just washes and rinses ’em; that’s 
the proper way.” 

“ For pity’s sake,” said Norah, giving 
the little busybody a good-natured push. 
“ What’s going on in the parlor. Miss Dot- 
ty? You’d better run and see. If you 
should go in there and look out of the win- 
dow, perhaps a monkey would come along 
with an organ.” 

“No, he wouldn’t, Norah, and if he did, 
Prudy’d let me know.” 

As Dotty spoke she was employed in 
slicing an onion, while the tears ran down 
her cheeks ; but a scream from Norah caused 
her to drop the knife. 


142 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ Why, what is it ? ” said Dotty. 

“ Ugh ! It’s some horrid little animit 
crawling down my neck.” 

“ Let me get him,” cried Dotty, seizing a 
pin, and rushing at poor Norah, who tried 
in vain to ward off the pin and at the same 
time catch the spider. 

“ Will you let me alone, child ? ” 

“No, no; I want the bug myself,” cried 
Dotty, pricking Norah on the cheek. 

“ Want the bug ? ” 

“Yes; mayn’t I stick him through with 
a pin from ear to ear? I know a lady 
Out West that’s making a c’lection of 
bugs.” 

* “Well, here he is, then; and a pretty 
scrape I’ve had catching him ; thanks be to 
you all the same. Miss Dimple.” 

As it turned out to be only a hair-pin. 
Dotty shook her head in disdain, and went 
on slicing onions. 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


143 


“ Sure now,” said Norah, “ I should think 
you’d be wanting to go and see what’s be-s 
come of your sister Prudy. Maybe she’s 
off on the street somewhere, and never 
asked you to go with her.” 

“Now you’re telling a hint,” exclaimed 
Dotty, making a dash at a turnip. “I 
know what you mean by your monkeys 
and tilings ; you want to get me away. 
It’s not polite to tell hints, Norah j my 
mamma says so.” 

But as Dotty began to see that she real- 
ly was not wanted, she concluded to go, 
though she must have it seem that she 
went of her own accord, and not because 
of Norah’s “ hints.” 

“Did you think it was a buggler, when I 
opened the cellar-door last night, Norah ? ” 

“No; I can’t say as I did — not when 
I looked at you,” replied Norah, gravely. 


144 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


’Cause I’m going into the parlor to ask 
mother if she thought I was a buggler. I 
believe I won’t help yon any more now, No- 
rah; p’rhaps I’ll come out by and by.” 

So Dotty skipped away; but it never 
occurred to her that she had been trouble- 
some. She merely thought it very strange 
Norah did not appreciate her services. 

I s’pose she knows mother’ll help her if 
I don’t,” said she to herself. 

Dotty’s goodness ran on with a ceaseless 
flow till two o’clock, when that event took 
place which the children regarded as the 
most important one of the day — that is, 
dinner. 

After the silent blessing, Mr. Parlin turned 
to his youngest daughter, and said, — 

“ Alice, do you know what Thanksgiving 
Day IS for ? ” 

“Yes, sir; for turkey.” 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


JL45 


“Is that all?” 

“ No, sir ; for plum pudding.” 

“ What do you think about it, Prudy ? ” 

“ I think the same as Dotty does, sir,” 
replied Prudy, with a wistful glance at 
her father’s right hand, which held the carv- 
ing knife. 

“ What do you say, Susy ? ” 

“ It comes in the almanac, just like Christ- 
mas, sir; and it’s something about the Pil- 
grim Fathers and the Mayflower.” 

“ No, Susy ; it does not come in the al- 
manac; the Governor appoints it. We have 
so many blessings that he sets apart one day 
in the year in which we are to think them 
over, and be thankful for them.” 

“Yes, sir; yes, indeed,” said Susy. “I 
always knew that.” 

“Now, before I carve the turkey, what 

if I ask the question all around what we 
10 


146 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


feel most thankful for to-clay ? We will be- 
gin with grandmamma.” 

“ If thee asks me first,” said grandma 
Read, clasping her blue- veined, beautiful old 
hands, “ I shall say I have everything to be 
thankful for ; but I am most thankful for 
peace. Thee knows how I feel about war.” 

The children thought this a strange an- 
swer. They had almost forgotten there had 
ever been a war. 

Now, Mary, what have you to say ? ” 
asked Mr. Parlin of his wife. 

‘‘I am thankful we are all alive,” replied 
Mrs. Parlin, looking at the faces around the 
table with a loving smile. 

“ And I,” said her husband, am thankful 
we all have our eyesight. I have thought 
more about it since I have visited two or 
three Blind Asylums. Susy, it is your turn.” 

“ Papa, I’m thankful I’m so near thirteen.” 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


.147 


Mr. Parlin stroked his mustache to 
hide a smile. He thought that was a very 
young remark. 

“ And you, Prudy ? ” 

“ I’m so thankful, sir,” answered Prudy, 
reflecting a while, “so thankful this house 
isn’t burnt up.” 

“ Bless your little grateful heart,” said 
her father, leaning towards her and stroking 
her cheek. “ For my part, I think one fire 
is quite enough for one family. I confess 
I never should have dreamed of being 
thankful we hadn’t had two. Well, Alice, 
what have you to say ? I see a thought in 
your eyes.” 

“ Why, papa,” said Dotty, laying her fore- 
fingers together with emphasis, “ I’ve known 
what I'm thankful for, for two days. I’m 
thankful Mrs. Rosenbug isn’t my mother ! ” 

A smile went around the table. 


148 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


But, papa, I am, truly. What should I 
want her for a mother for ? ” 

“ Indeed, I see no reason, my child, since 
you already have a pretty good mother of 
your own.” 

“ Pretty good, papa ! ” said Dotty, in a 
tone of mild reproof. “ Why, if she was 
YOUR mother, you’d think she was very 
good.” 

“ Granted,” returned Mr. Parlin. 

“ I don’t think you’d like it, papa, to 
have her scold so she shakes down cob- 
webs.” 

“Who?” 

“ Mrs. Rosenbug.” 

“Never mind, my dear; we will not dis- 
cuss that woman to-day. I hope you will 
some time learn to pronounce her name.” 

Then followed a few remarks from Mr. 
Parlin upon our duty to the Giver of all 


THANKSGIVING DAY. 


149 


good things; after which he began at last 
to carve the turkey. The children thought 
it was certainly time he did so. They were 
afraid their thankfulness would die out if 
they did not have something to eat pretty 
soon. 


/ 


150 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER X. . 
grandma’s old times. 

Grandma Read was in her own room, 
sitting before a bright “clean” fire. She 
did not like coal ; she said it made too 
much dust; so she always 'used wood. She 
sat with her knitting in her hands, clicking 
the needles merrily while she looked into 
the coals. 

People can see a great many things in 
coals. Just now she saw the face of her 
dear husband, who had long ago been buried 
out of her sight. He had a broad-brimmed 
hat on his head, and there was a twinkle in 
his eye, for he had been a funny man, and 


GEANDMA^S OLD TIMES. 


151 


very fond of a joke. Grandma smiled as 
if she could almost hear him tell one of 
his droll stories. 

Presently there was a little tap at the 
door. Grandma roused herself, and looked 
up to see who was coming. 

Walk in,” said she ; “ walk in, my dear.” 

“Yes’m, we came a-purpose to walk in,” 
replied a cheery voice; and Prudy and Dot- 
ty danced into- the room, with their arms 
about each other’s waists. 

“ O, how pleasant it seems in here ! ” said 
Prudy; “when I come in I always feel just 
like singing.” 

“Thee likes my clean fire,” said grandma. 

“But, grandma,” said Dotty, “I should 
think you’d be lonesome ’thout anybody but 
you.’* 

“ No, my dear ; the room is always full.” 

“ Full, grandma ? ” 


152 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“Yes; full of memories.^’ 

The children looked about; but they saw 
only two sunny windows ; a table with books 
on it, and a pair of gold fishes; a bed with 
snowy coverlet and very high pillows; a 
green and white carpet; a mahogany bureau 
and washing-stand; and then the bright fire- 
place, with a marble mantel, and a pair of 
gilt bellows hanging on a brass nail. 

It ’was a very neat and cheerful room ; but 
they could not understand why there should 
be any more memories in it than there were 
in any other part of the house. 

“ We old people live very much in the 
past,” said grandma Read. “ Prudence, if 
thee’ll pick up this stitch for me, I will tell 
thee what I was thinking of when thee and 
Alice came in.” 

So saying, she held out the little red mit- 
ten she- was knitting, and at the same time 





> 1 

■H^n • ' '*1^ 



■0C \ sN 'M 


Grandma’s Oi.d Times. — Page 153 . 




grandma’s old times. 


153 


took the spectacles off her nose and offered 
them to Priidy. Prudy laughed. 

“ Why, grandma ! my eyes are as good 
as can be. I don’t wear glasses.” 

“So thee doesn’t, child, surely. I am a 
little absent-minded, thinking of old mother 
Knowles.” 

“ Grandma, please wait a minute,” said 
Prudy, after she had picked up the stitch. 
“ If you are going to tell a story, I want to 
get my work and bring it in here. I’m in 
a hurry about that scarf for mamma.” 

“ It is nothing very remarkable,” said Mrs. 
Read, as the children seated themselves, one 
on each side of her, , Prudy with her cro- 
cheting of violet and white worsted, and 
Dotty with nothing at all to do but play with 
the tongs. 

“ Mrs. Knowles was a very large, fleshy 
woman, who lived near my father’s house 


154 


DOTTY DBIPLE AT PLAY. 


when I was a little girl. Some people were 
very much afraid of her, and thought her a 
witch. Her sister’s husband, Mr. Palmer, 
got very angry with her, and declared she 
bewitched his cattle.” 

“Did she, grandma?” asked Dotty. 

“ No, indeed, my dear ; and couldn’t have 
done it if she had tried.” 

“Then ’twas very unpertinent for him to 
say so ! ” 

“He was a lazy man, and did not take 
proper care of his animals. Sometimes he 
came over and talked witli my mother about 
his trials with his wicked sister-in-law. He 
said he often went to the barn in the morn- 
ing, and found his poor cattle had walked up 
to the top of the scaffold ; and how could 
they do that unless they were bewitched ? ” 

“ Did they truly do it ? I know what tlie 
scaffold is ; it is a high place where you look 
for hen’s eggs.” 


geandma’s old times. 


155 


Yes ; I believ’^e the cows did really walk 
up there; but this was the M^ay it happened, 
Alice : They were not properly fastened into 
their stalls, and being very hungry, they 
went into the barn for something to eat. 
The barn floor was covered with hay, and 
there was a hill of hay which led right up 
to the scaffold ; so they could get there well 
enough without being bewitched.” 

“ Did your mother — my great-grand- 
ma “ believe in witches ? ” asked Prudy. 
^'What did she say to Mr. Palmer?” 

“ O, no ! she had no faith in witches ; thy 
great grandmother was a sensible woman. 
She said to him, ‘ Friend Asa, thee’d better 
have some good strong bows made for thy 
cattle, and put on their necks; and 'len I 
think thee’ll find they can’t get out of their 
stalls. Thee says they are as lean as Plia- 
raoh’s kine, and I would advise thee to feed 


156 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


them better. Cattle that are well fed and 
well cared for will never go bewitched.’” 

“ Did Mrs. Knowles know what people 
said about her ? ” asked Prudy. 

“Yes; she heard the stories, and it made 
her feel very badly.” 

“ How did she look ? ” 

“A little like thy grandmother Parlin, if 
I remember, only she was much larger.” 

“ Did she know anything ? ” 

“ O, yes ; it was rather an ignorant neigh- 
borhood ; but she was one of the most in- 
telligent women in it.” 

“Did she ever go anywhere?” 

“ Yes ; she came to my mother for sym^ 
pathy. I remember just how she looked 
in her tow and linen dress, with her hair 
fastened at the back of the head with a 
goose-quill.” 

“There, there!” cried Dotty, “that was 
what made ’em call her a witch ! ” 


grandma’s old times. 


157 


“ O, no ; a goose-quill was quite a com- 
mon fashion in those times, and a great deal 
prettier, too, than the waterfalls thee sees 
nowadays. Mrs. Knowles dressed like oth- 
er people, and looked like other people, for 
aught I know; but I wished she would not 
come to our house so much.” 

“Didn’t you like her?” 

“ Yes ; I liked her very well, for she 
carried peppermints in a black bag on her 
arm ; but I was afraid the stories were true, 
and she might bewitch my mother.” 

“ Why, grandma, I shouldn’t have thought 
that of you!” 

“I was a very small girl then. Prudence; 
and the children I played with belonged, for 
the most part, to ignorant families.” 

“ Grandma was like an apple playing with 
potatoes,” remarked Dotty, one side to 
Prudy. 


158 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY, 


used to watch Mrs. Knowles,” continued 
Mrs. Eead, “ hoping to see her cry ; for they 
said if she was really a witch, she could 
shed but three tears, and those out of her 
left eye.” 

“Did you ever catch her crying?” 

“ Once,” replied grandma, with a smile ; 
“and then she kept her handkerchief at her 
face. I was quite disappointed, for I couldn’t 
tell which eye she cried out of.” 

“Please tell some more,” said Dotty. 

“ They said Mrs. Knowles was often seen 
in a high wind riding off on a broomstick. 
It ought to have been a strong broomstick, 
for she was a very large woman.” 

“ Why, grandma,” said Prudy, thrusting 
her hook into a stitch, “I can’t help think- 
ing what queer days you lived in ! Now, 
when I talk to my grandchildren, I shall tell 
them of such beautiful things ; of swings 
and picnics, and Christmas trees.” 


grandma’s old times. 


159 


^^.So shall 1 to my grandchildren,” said 
Dotty; “but not always. I shall have to 
look sober sometimes, and tell ’em how I 
had the sore throat, and couldn’t swallow 
anything but boiled custards and cream 
toast. ‘For,’ says I, ‘children, it was very 
different in those days.’ ” 

“Ah, well, you little folks look forward, 
and we old folks look backward ; but it all 
seems like a dream, either way, to me,” said 
grandma Read, binding off the thumb of 
her little red mitten — “ like a dream when 
it is told.” 

“Speaking of telling dreams, grandma, I 
had a funny one last night,” said Prudy, 
“about a queer old gentleman. Guess who 
it was.” 

“ Thy grandfather, perhaps. Does thee re- 
member, Alice, how thee used to sit on his 
knee and comb his hair with a toothpick?” 


160 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“ I don’t think ’twas me,” said Dotty ; for 
I wasn’t born then.” 

It was I,” replied Prudy. “ I remem- 
ber grandpa now, but I didn’t use to. It 
wasn’t grandpa I dreamed about — it was 
Santa Claus.” 

Grandma smiled, and raised her spectacles 
to the top of her forehead. 

“We never talked about fairies in my 
day,” said she. “I never heard of a Santa 
Claus when I was young.” 

“ Well, grandma, he came down the chim- 
ney "in a coach that looked like a Quaker 
bonnet on wheels — but he was all a-dazzle 
with gold buttons; and what do you think 
he said?” 

Something very foolish, I presume.” 

“ He said, ^ Miss Prudy, I’m going to be 
married.’ Only think ! and he such a very 
old bachelor.” 


grandma’s old times. 161 

I 

‘^Dld thee dream out the bride?” 

“ It was INIother Goose.” 

‘‘Very well,” said Mrs. Read, smiling. “I 
should think that was a very good match.” 

“ She did look so funny, grandma, with 
a great hump on her nose, and one on her 
back ! Santa Claus kissed her ; and what do 
you think she said?” 

“ I am sure I can’t tell ; I am not ac- 
quainted with thy fairy folks.” 

“ Why, she shook her sides, and, said 
she, ‘ Sing a song o’ sixpence.’ ” 

“ That was as sensible a speech as thee 
could expect from that quarter.” 

“O, grandma, you don’t care anything 
about my dream, or I could go on and de- 
scribe the wedding-cake; how she put sage 
in it, and pepper, and mustard, and baked it 
on top of one of our registers. What do you 

suppose made me dream such a queer thing ? ” 
11 


162 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 

“ Thee was probably thinking of thy 
mother’s wedding.” 

“ O, Christinas is going to be splendider 
than ever, this year,” said Dotty ; “ isn’t it, 
grandma? Did you have any Christmases 
when you were young ? ” 

“ O, yes ; but we didn’t mak« much ac- 
count of Cliristmas in those days.” 

“Why, grandma! I knew you lived on 
bean porridge, but I s’posed you had some- 
thing to eat Christmas ! ” 

“ O,* sometimes I had a little saucer-pie, 
sweetened with molasses, and the crust 
made of raised dough.” 

“ Poor, dear grandma ! ” 

“ I rememember my father used to put a 
great backlog on the fire Christmas morn- 
ing, as large as the fireplace would hold; 
and that was all the celebration we ever 
had.” 


GEANDMA^S OLD TBIES. 


163 


■^Didn’t you have Christmas presents?” 

“ No, Alice; not so much as a brass thim- 
ble.” 

“ Poor grandma ! I shouldn’t think you 
would have wanted to live! Didn’t any- 
body love you ? ” said Dotty, putting her 
fingers under Mrs. Read’s cap, and smooth- 
ing her soft gray hair ; ‘‘ why, I love every 
hair of your head.” 

am glad thee does, child; but that 
doesn’t take much love, for thee knows I 
haven’t a great deal of hair.” 

“ But, grandma, how could you live with- 
out Christmas trees and things?” 

“ I was happy enough, Alice.” 

“ But you’d have been a great deal hap- 
pier, grandma, if you’d had a Santa Claus ! 
It’s so nice to believe what isn’t true I ” 

Ah I does thee think so ? There was 
one thing I believed when I was a very lit- 


164 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


tie girl, and it was not true. I believed the 
cattle knelt at midnight on Christmas eve.” 

“ Knelt, grandma ? For what ? ” 

Because our blessed Lord was born in a 
manger.” 

“ But they didn’t know that. Cows can’t 
read the Bible.” 

“ It was an idle story, of course, like the 
one about Mother Knowles. A man who 
worked at our house, Israel Crossman, told 
it to me, and I thought it was true.” 

Here grandma gazed into the coals again. 
She could see Israel Crossman sitting on a 
stump, whittling a stick and puffing away at 
a short pipe. 

“ Well, children,” said she, I have talked 
to you long enough about things that are 
past and gone. On the whole, I don’t say 
they were good old times, for the times nou 
are a great deal better.” 


grandma’s old times. 


165 


“ Yes, indeed,” said Prudy. 

“ Except one thing,” added grandma, look- 
ing at Dotty, who was snapping the tongs 
together. “ Children had more to do in my 
day than they have now.” 

Dotty blushed. 

“ Grandma,” said she, “ I’m having a play- 
time, you know, ’cause there can’t anybody 
stop to fix my work. But mother says after 
the holidays I’m going to have a stint every 
day.” 

“That’s right, dear. Now thee may run 
down and get me a skein of red yarn thee 
will find on the top shelf in the nursery 
closet.” 


166 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 

As tlie crystal wedding was to take place 
on the twenty-fourth, the Christmas tree 
was deferred till the night after, and was 
not looked forward too by the children as 
anything very important. They had had a 
tree, a Kris Kringle, or something of the 
sort, every year since they could remember; 
but a wedding was a rare event, and to be 
a bridesmaid was as great an honor, Dotty 
thought, as could be conferred on any little 
girl. 

It was intended that everything should 
be as much as possible like the original 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


167 


wedding. Mrs. Pari in was to wear the 
same dove-colored silk and bridal veil she 
had worn then, and Mr. Parlin the same 
coat and white vest, though they were de- 
cidedly out of fashion by this time. Dotty 
was resplendent in a white dress with a long 
sash, a gold necklace of her aunt Eastman’s, 
and a pair of white kid slippers. Johnny 
was to be groomsman. He was a boy who 
was always startling his friends with some 
new idea, and this time he had “ borrowed ” 
a silver bouquet-holder out of his mother’s 
drawer, and filled it with the loveliest green- 
house flowers. 

Until Dotty saw this, she had been happy; 
but the thought of standing up with a boy 
who held such a beautiful toy, while her 
own little hands would be empty — this was 
too much. 

“ Johnny Eastman,” said she, with a trem- 


168 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


bling voice, “how do you think it will look 
to be holding flowers up to your nose when 
the minister’s a-praying ? I’d be so ’shamed, 
so ’shamed, Johnny Eastman !” 

“ You want the bouquet-holder yourself, 
you know you do,” said Johnny; “you want 
everything you see ; and if folks don’t give 
right up to you, then there’s a fuss.” 

“O, Johnny Eastman, I’m a girl, and 
that’s the only reason why I want the 
bouquet-holder! If I was a boy, do you 
s’pose I’d touch such a thing? But I can’t 
' wear flowers in the button-holes of my coat 
— now can I?” 

The children were in the guest chamber, 
preparing to go down — all but Prudy, who 
was in her mother’s room, assisting at the 
bridal toilet. Susy aud Flossy stood before 
the mirror, and Johnny and Dotty in the 
middle of the room, confronting each other 
with angry brows. 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


169 


“ Hush, children ! ” said Susy, in an absent- 
minded way, and went on brushing her hair, 
which was one of the greatest trials in the 
whole world, because it would not curl. 
She had frizzed it with curling-tongs, rolled 
it on papers, and drenched it with soap suds 
till there was danger of its fading entirely 
away ; still it was as straight, after all, as an 
Indian’s. 

O, dear ! ” said she ; “ it sticks up all 
over my head like a skein of yarn. Chil- 
dren, do hush ! ” 

“ Mine curls too tight, if anything ; don’t 
you think so ? ” asked Flossy, trying not to 
look as well satisfied with herself as she 
really felt ; adding, by way of parenthesis, * 
“ Johnny, why can’t you be q^uiet ? ” 

“ Are you going to let me have that bou- 
quet-holder, Johnny Eastman ? ” continued 
Dotty ; “ ’cause I’m going right out to tell 


170 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


my mother. She’ll be so mortified she’ll 
send you right home, if you hold it up to 
your nose, when you are nothing but a boy.” 
“ That’s right. Dimple, run and tell.” 

“ Ko, I shan’t tell if you’ll give it to me. 
And you may have one of the roses in your 
button-hole, Johnny. That’s the way the 
Dickings man had, that wrote Little Nell ; 
father said so. There’s 'a good boy, now!” 

Dotty dropped her voice to a milder key, 
and smiled as sweetly as the bitterness of 
her feelings would permit. She had set 
her heart on the toy, and her white slippers, 
and even her gold necklace, dwindled into 
nothing in comparison. 

Whose mother owns this bouquet-holder, 
I’d like to know ? ” said Johnny, flourishing it 
above his head. “ And whose father brought 
home the flowers from the green-house ? ” 

“ Well, any way, Johnny, ’twas my aunt 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


171 


and uncle, you know ; and they’d be will- 
ing, ’cause your * mamma let me have her 
necklace ’thout my asking.” 

“ I can’t help it if they’re both as willing 
as two peas,” cried Johnny. “ I’m not will- 
ing myself, and that’s enough.” 

“ 0 , what a boy ! I' was going to put 
some of my nightly blue sirreup on your 
hangerjif, and now I won’t — see if I do ! ” 

“ I don’t want anybody’s sirup,” retorted 
Johnny ; “ ’tic’ly such a cross party’s as you 
are.” 

“ Johnny Eastman, you just stop murder- 
ing me.” 

“ Murdering you ? ” 

“ Yes ; ‘ he that hateth his brother.’ ” 

“ I’m not your brother, I should hope.” 

“Well, a cousin’s just as bad.” 

“ No, not half so bad. I wouldn’t be 
your brother if I had to be a beggar.” 


172 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


“And I wouldn’t let you be a brother, 
Johnny Eastman, not if T had to go and be 
a heathen.” 

“ O, what a Dotty ! ” 

“ O, what a Johnny ! ” 

By this time the little bridesmaid’s face 
was anything but pleasant to behold. Both 
her dimples were buried out of sight, and 
she had as many wrinkles in her forehead 
as grandma Read. Johnny danced about 
the room, holding before her eyes the bone 
of contention, then drawing it away again 
in the most provoking manner. 

“ If you act so, Johnny Eastman, I won’t 
have you for my bridegroom.” 

“ And I won’t have you for my bride — 
so there ! ” 

The moment these words were spoken, 
the angry children were frightened. They 
had not intended to go so far. It had been 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


173 


their greatest pleasure for several weeks to 
think of “ standing up ” at a w^edding ; and 
they would neither of them have missed 
the honor on any account. But now, in 
their foolish strife, they had made it impos- 
sible to do the very thing they most desired 
to do. They had said the fatal words, and 
were both of them too proud to draw back. 
There was one comfort. “ The wedding will 
be stopped,” thought Dotty; ^^they can’t be 
married ’thout Johnny and me.” 

The guests were all assembled. It w'as 
now time for the bridal train to go down 
stairs and have the ceremony performed. 
As the children left the chamber, uncertain 
what to do, but resolved that whichever 
“ stood up,” the other would sit down, 
Johnny seized a bottle of panacea which 
stood on the mantel, and w'et the corner of 
Dotty’s handkerchief. 


174 DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 

“ There is some sirup worth having,” said 
he; “stronger than yours. Rub it in your 
eyes, and see if it isn’t.” 

The boy did not mean what he said, or 
at any rate we will hope he did not; but 
Dotty, in her haste and agitation, obeyed 
him without stopping one moment to think. 

Instantly the wedding was forgotten, the 
bouquet-holder, the anger, the disapj)oint- 
ment, and everything else but the agony in 
her eyes. It was so dreadful that she could 
only scream, and spin round and round like 
a top. 

A scene of confusion followed. The poor 
child was so frantic that her father was 
obliged to hold her by main force, while 
her mother tried to bathe her eyes with 
cold water. They were fearfully inflamed, 
and for a whole hour the wedding was de- 
layed, while poor Dotty lay struggling in 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


175 


her father’s arms, or tore about the nursery 
like a wild creature. 

Johnny was very sorry. He said he did 
not know what was in the bottle ; he had 
sprinkled his cousin’s handkerchief in sport. 

“ She talks so much about her ‘ nightly 
blue sirreup,’ ” said he to his mother, “ that 
I thought I would tease her a little speck.” 

“ I don’t know but you have put her eyes 
out,” said his mother, severely. 

“O, do you think so?” wailed Johnny. 
“ O, don’t say so, mother ! ” 

“I hope not, my child; but panacea is a 
very powerful thing. I don’t know pre- 
cisely what is in it, but you have certainly 
tried a dangerous experiment.” 

“ I didn’t mean to, mother ; I’ll never do 
so again.” 

“That is what you always say,” replied 
his mother, shaking her head; “and that 


176 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


is wliy I am so discouraged about you. 
Nothing seems to make any impression upon 
you. If you have really made your cousin 
blind for life I hope it will be a lesson 
to you.” 

While Mrs. Eastman talked, looking very 
stately in her velvet dress, Master Johnny 
was balancing himself on the hat-tree in 
the hall, as if he scarcely heard what she 
said ; but, in spite of his disrespectful man- 
ner, he was 'really unhappy. 

“I knew something would go wrong,” 
continued Mrs. Eastman, “when it was first 
proposed that you and Dotty should stand 
up together, and I did not approve of the 
plan. AVhat is the reason you two children 
must always be quarrelling?” 

“She is the one that begins it,” replied 
Johnny. “ If I could hnve stood up with 
Prudy, there wouldn’t have been any fuss.” 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


177 


“ With Prucly, indeed ! I dare say you 
would be glad to do so now, you naughty 
boy. Your kind aunt Mary suggested it, 
but I told her. No. Since you have hurt 
Dotty so terribly, you cannot be grooms- 
man.” 

“ O, mother ! ” 

“No, my son. She is unable to perform 
her part, and you must give up yours. 
Percy will take your place.” 

In spite of his manliness, Johnny dropped 
a few tears, which he brushed away with 
the back of .his hand; but his mother, for 
once in her life, was firm. 

I will not say that Johnny’s disappoint- 
ment was not some consolation to Dotty, 
who lay on the sofa in the parlor with her 
eyes bandaged, while the wedding ceremony 
was performed. If Johnny had been one 

of the group, while her own poor little 
12 


178 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


self was left out, necklace, slippers, and 
all, she would have thought it unjust. 

As it was, it seemed hard enough. She 
was in total darkness, but her “mind made 
pictures while her eyes were shut.” She 
could almost see how the bride and bride- 
groom looked, holding each other by the 
hand, with the tall Percy on one side, and 
the short Prudy on the other, — the dear 
Prudy, who was so sorry for her sister that 
she could not enjoy taking her place, though 
a fairer little bridesmaid than she made could 
hardly be found in the city. 

The same clergyman officiated now W'ho 
had married Mr. and Mrs. Parlin fifteen 
years before ; and after he had married 
them over again, he made a speech which 
caused Dotty to cry a little under her hand- 
kerchief; or, if not the speech, it was the 
panacea that brought the tears — she did 
not know which. 


THE CRYSTAL WEDDING. 


179 


He said he remembered just how Edward 
Pari ill and INIary Read looked when they 
stood before him in the bloom of their 
youth, and promised to live together as 
husband and wife. They had seemed very 
happy then ; but he thought they were hap- 
pier now ; he could read in their faces the 
history of fifteen beautiful years. He did 
not wonder the time had passed very pleas- 
antly, for they knew how to make each 
other happy ; they had tried to do right, 
and they had three lovely children, who 
were blessings to them, and would be bless- 
ings to any parents. 

It was here that Dotty felt the tears start. 

“ Ihn not a blessing at all,” thought she ; 
“he doesn’t know anything about it, how I 
act, and had temper up stairs with Johnny ! 
Johnny’s put my eyes out for it, and I’ll 
have to go to the ’Sylum, I suppose. If I 


180 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


do, I shan’t be a blessing so much as I am 
now ! To anybody ever ! ” 

By and by aunt Eastman presented the 
bride with a bridal rose, which looked as 
nearly as possible like the one she had given 
her at the first wedding, and which grew 
from a slip of the same plant. Dotty could 
not see the rose, but she heard her aunt say 
she hoped to attend Mrs. Parlin’s Golden 
Wedding. 

“ I shall be ever so old by that time,” 
thought the little girl. “ Fifteen from fifty 
leaves — leaves — I don’t know what it leaves; 
but I shall be a blind old lady, and wear a 
cap. Perhaps God wants to make a very 
good woman of me, same as Emily, and 
that’s why he let Johnny put my eyes out.” 

Here some one came along and offered 
Miss Dimple a slice of wedding cake, which 
tasted just as delicious as if she could see 


THE CEYSTAL WEDDING. 


181 


it; then some one else put a glass of lemon- 
ade to her lips. 

“ Has my little girl a kiss for me ? ” said 
Mrs. Parlin, coming to the sofa as soon as 
she could break away from her guests. 

The gentle “mother-touch” went to Dot- 
ty’s heart. She threw her arms about Mrs. 
Parlin’s neck, wrinkling her collar and tum- 
bling her veil. 

“Take care, my child,” said Mr. Parlin, 
laughing; “do not crush the bride. Every- 
body has been coming up to salute her, and 
you must understand that she does you a 
great honor to go to you and heg a kiss.” 

“It is just like you, though, mamma. 
You are so good to me, and so is every- 
body ! No matter how naughty I am, and 
spoil weddings, they don’t say, ‘You hateful 
thing!’” 

“Would it make you a better child, do 


182 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


you think, Dotty, to be scolded when you do 
wrong ? ” 

“Why, no, indeed, mamma. It’s all that 
makes me not be the wickedest girl in this 
city, is ’cause you are so good to me; I 
know it is.” 

Mrs. Parlin kissed the little mouth that 
said these sweet words. 

“ And now that I am blind, mamma, you 
are so kind, I s’pose you’ll feed me with a 
spoon.” 

“You will surely be taken care of, dear, 
as long as your eyes are in this state.” 

“But shan’t I be always blind?” 

“ No, indeed, child ; you will be quite 
well in a day or two.” 

“ O, I’m so glad, mamma. I was thinking 
I shouldn’t ever go to school, and should 
have to be sent to the ’Sylum.” 

While Dotty was speaking, Johnny came' 


THE CEYSTAL WEDDING. 


183 


up to the sofa, and, taking her hand, said, in 
a tone of real sorrow, — 

“ Look here. Dotty ; I was a naughty boy ; 
will you forgive me?” 

As Johnny was not in the habit of beg- 
ging pardon, and did it now of his own free 
will, Dotty was greatly astonished. 

“Yes, Johnny,” said she, “I forgive you 
all up. But then I don’t ever want you to 
put my eyes out again.” 

“ I won’t, now, honest ; see ’f I do,” re- 
plied Master Johnny, in a choked voice. 
“ And you may have that bouquet-holder, 
to keep ; mother said so.” 

“ O, Johnny ! ” 

“ Yes ; mother says we can call it a ^ peace 
otfering.’ Let’s not quarrel any more. Dotty, 
just to see how ’twill seem.” 

“ What, never ! ” exclaimed Dotty, start- 
ing ■ up on her elbow, and trying to look 


184 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY. 


through her thick bandage at Johnny. 
“Never! Why, don’t you mean to come 
to my house any more, Johnny Eastman ? ” 

“Yes; but I won’t quarrel unless you 
begin it.” 

“ O, I shan’t begin it,” replied Miss Dim- 
ple, confidently ; “ I never do, you know.” 

T Johnny had the grace not to retort. He 
was ashamed of his ungentlemanly conduct, 
and knelt before the sofa, gazing sadly at 
his blindfolded little cousin. It was a hum- 
ble place for him, and we will leave him 
there, hoping his penitence may do him 
good for the future. 

As for Miss Dimple, we will bid her good- 
bye while her eyes are closed. Be patient, 
little Dotty ; the pain will soon be over, 
and when we see you again, you will be 
trudging merrily to school with a book 
under your arm. 




